All You Have to Do is Sing
by GothLoli
Summary: "You have your Mother's voice," he said, petting his little daughters head, "It couldn't save her, but by damn it'll save you."
1. All You Have to Do is Sing

I was born sick. Even before my mother collapsed, or went into labor, I was terribly sick from the get-go…

My first few memories are of white lab coats and bright white lights. And my father's face. He's such a dear, my father.

I was born on the ship _Heavenfall_. It was named after the great Captain Roderick Heavenfall. The first person to go into space the way people of the past only saw in movies or television. A la _Star Wars _or _Star Trek_. He was a revolutionary.

Fast-forward a few centuries. The _Heavenfall_ was a military vessel. Half cruise ship. Military personal could bring their families with proper documents. So many had done so that it wasn't surprising when babies began to live and grow here. It was so huge, with so many people, some called it a floating Earth.

Father said that Mother hated it when they said that. He said that she said that nothing could ever replace Earth. She wanted me to be born on earth.

Anyway, Father was a high ranking scientist. He spent days upon days in his laboratories (because they were many) on the Classified Floors of the ship. One day, he says, some of his University chums got him to go out and enjoy some social interaction.

_Heavenfall_ has just about everything. A pool, a garden, a park, a theater, a school…you name it, it has it. Father's friends lead him to a posh nightclub on one of the more prestigious floors, it was called the _Canary_.

Father had a few drinks, but he said he didn't enjoy himself. That is until, the evenings entertainment began.

Mother is very beautiful. I've seen her pictures and all of Father's recordings. She's gorgeous. Father says that when he saw her onstage, he thought he had died and gone to heaven.

He also says that when he heard her voice, he was practically _positive_ she was an angel.

I'm completely sure that Mother and Father were very happy together. I've seen all the recordings, the adoration in their eyes is unmistakable. Father misses her terribly. Sometimes I see him cry.

It makes me wish I wasn't born.

My dear Mother was the carrier of a fatal illness. The mere minute I began to form in this vast universe, she became infected. The doctors told her that having me would surely kill her, but she told that if she was already infected, she was going to die anyway.

I love her for this reason.

My dear Mother. I heard she was in such great pain my the last months of my term. At first she was so tired, her, who had always been active and vibrant. Then the pains started. I heard that it was like I was eating her alive. But she wouldn't let me go.

I was her baby.

When I was born she only had time to name me.

Then she died.

Then I had to go to immediate care.

My first few years I was bald as if I were still a baby. I didn't speak because who could teach me the midst of emergency surgery and emergency surgery.

I was tested, and tested, and tested…

Then I was examined and put into observation.

It was then that I began to live.

My darling Father had a room made up for me. An actual room, not a medical room. He wanted to teach me everything about being a child. He wanted me to live. Live the same way my Mother did.

I never liked the lab coats. Or the Doctors. Neither did he. He hated it when they interrupted our play time. They always wanted to test me or observe me. I felt like an experiment.

I was just sick.

Needles and medication and vaccine. Maybe we shouldn't have been so mad at them. It was all this that kept me alive. I think it was the fact that they were a constant reminder that I wasn't a healthy, normal, child that made us mad at them.

I told you that my Father was a high-ranking scientist, right?

Well, I discovered what that meant when I was 12.

His military higher-ups demanded him to stop loving me. They needed him for a big and important operation. Father didn't want to, but his hands were tied. How could he keep paying world-renowned doctors to find cures for me if he didn't work? Poor Father…

I was so lonely every time he left. No child would play with me. The doctors weren't people I liked. Besides, every time he left, it gave them the chance to test me as much as they wanted.

I would wait for him to come back.

"Did you hear how the Yautja project is going…?"

I never spoke if it wasn't with Father, but I understood as any child would.

Father told me it was very important what he was doing. It would soften the gap between Human and Yautja relations.

"But I wish I could spend more time with you, regardless," dear Father, he was always so apologetic when he came back.

Whenever I got really lonely, I watched Father's recordings of him and Mother. I would always get sad after that. I want so bad to meet Mother…

I wasn't as beautiful as she was. I was deathly pale. And I was weak. She was so active, I could barely move without wearing out. She seemed so sure of herself and so smart. Some called me shy, but I knew very well that the truth was that I didn't trust anyone other than Father.

One thing I did have, though, is that Father would always say how I was an exceptionally genius child. I understood everything. This made me happy because it made him proud, and because I felt like my mother that way. She was smart to. And her voice was beautiful.

I liked to watch her sign.

I began to wonder…could I sing like her too?

When I got so lonely without Father, or so sad at watching their recordings, I tried it.

To myself I wasn't so bad. I never had an audience.

I sang some more, whenever I felt lonely and sad. The doctors tried to make a big deal of it, once, but I refused to answer their stupid questions.

"Why have you started signing?"

I glared at them.

"Singing can be a very positive outlet, something to help improve your condition."

I still glared.

It was always my condition. Testing. Observing.

I sang because I wanted to. I never answered them.

They left me alone, and I started singing again.

"You're singing!" My Father came once when I was in the middle of singing, "My dear, how lovely!"

I smiled at him. He didn't make it sound like I was an experiment doing something knew.

"Once more, my dear, so I can hear."

I was more than happy to sing for him.

I sang.

And then it hurt.

There was a big strong pain in my stomached. My head screamed and I could hardly breathe. Everything became so blurry. The only thing I could hear was my Fathers shouts.

I felt like my first few years again.

A blur of lab coats and white light enveloped me. I tried to find my Father. When I didn't I was scared. For days, maybe, I didn't understand what was going on. There were nothing but blurs and blurs…

I woke up to my Father shouting.

"I'm not going without my Daughter this time!" I could see that he was talking to one of his higher-ups. "I don't care how important this is! You can forget me if she's not on board!"

Father didn't trust the Doctors anymore. He wanted me to go with him to the higher floors. He would pick his own team to watch over me. I would go wherever he went.

I said goodbye to my room and we took an elevator with special clearance up to Level A.

It was here that I first saw a Yautja.

I was always on high medication now, but I saw him all the same. My Father had to go meet him with a pack of other military officials. I met every senator and every commander.

The Yautja came with a pack, also.

Father said he came with Arbitrators, special soldiers that were like police, bodyguards, and judges all at once. There was also a bunch of Elders. These where Yautja that had lived to be very honored and respected.

They were like skyscrapers to me. They were shiny with golden armor and long red capes. They had scales of sandy color. I couldn't understand them. Father said they were here on diplomatic negotiations. One of Father's colleagues, Dr. Alexander, said that diplomatic negotiations wasn't in a Yautja's dictionary and that we were just fooling ourselves. He said that what they really want is to kill us all.

I slept in a corner of one of Fathers laboratories, the one he was in the most. He kept an eye one me and gave me all my medications on the dot. They made me drowsy. He said that they made me better. Or at least stop me from getting worse.

"Sing for me, dear?" one day he asked.

I hadn't sung for days. Father was very tired with the negotiations.

So I sang for him.

When I felt good enough to walk, I would explore a little. Sometimes I would sing to pass the time.

"It's good that your singing, dear," Father said once, when he was really tired at looking at a monitor. I saw black circles under his eyes, "You should sing whenever you feel like it. It's nothing to be ashamed about, you should share it with everyone."

I think I reminded him of my Mother when I sang. He always looked like he was going to cry.

That, and because I was dying.

Father would take me everywhere he went. He gave me special pills to take so I wouldn't get tired. I don't think his higher-ups liked that. Everyone in a military suit would always look uncomfortable when I came inside a room.

I tried not to bother them, so I always went to some corner or stood far away. They seemed to appreciate it, Father was concerned about keeping an eye on me.

Once, when they all got into a large office with a long, long table, I sat on the farthest corner I could. The Yautja were late that day. I heard one of the Senators tell one of the Commanders that they were finally getting tired of sitting and talking.

"Did you see how the black one didn't even want to look at us? He stood the entire meeting!"

"They were impatient," the commander shook his head, "I can see war all over their faces…"

"They were annoyed with everything we said!" An Ambassador nervously clawed at the red-oak table, "This is going to end bad, I know it!"

Naturally, this made Father upset.

So I sang.

I knew they didn't like it. It made them remember I was here, so it made them ten times more uncomfortable. But Father looked calmer.

Soon I wandered into my own thoughts. Singing made me do that.

I didn't notice anyone.

I didn't notice the double-doors open.

"Elders, Arbitrator Su'ete…"

I kept singing until I finished.

When I looked up, I noticed that everyone looked even more nervous. The Yautja hadn't taken a seat yet. I looked towards Father. He seemed alright.

"Right then…please, come in…"

The Yautja did so.

At first I paid attention to all the meetings, but they became so boring and the same. It appeared that the Yautja didn't _want_ to negotiate, so whatever the ambassadors said or whatever the commanders offered to do didn't interest them. They seemed as bored as me.

After the meeting (which was such a failure that surely the committee would become even more nervous) Father came to me.

"Dear, would you mind singing again?"

Of course I didn't mind.

As Father lead me out of the office room, me singing along, I noticed he glanced at each Yautja. I did so, too, but didn't understand why.

Afterwards, I heard a Secretary talking to his friend as they passed the hall, "That damn Arbitrator looked like he was going to pounce every time that girl sang…"

This could've been alarming, but I remembered how calm Father looked so I didn't mind it.

With every day that passed, I felt more tired. Father would give me more and more medication. "Be damned what Alexander says," he would say, sometimes injecting something in me that was supposed to make me hurt less.

Once in a while, Father sent me to sing in specific places. "Go to Sector 9, dear." or "Here's a pass to Avenue H, if anyone catches you, just act like your lost".

I would go there and sing, but I didn't get why.

One day, Father did something bold. "Come dear," he said that day, "We're going to Floor Zero."

Floor Zero was heavily restricted. I had never been there. This floor was were the Yautja resided.

Apparently, something on board their ship was damaged, and although they hated asking for it, they needed help.

My Father was a high-ranking scientist. Of course he would go. What everyone else didn't understand, was why he brought me along with him on the most dangerous place on all of _Heavenfall_.

He was preoccupied, when he got there.

Everyone on Father's team was charged with fixing the machine…while secretly trying to download a way to reverse engineer it. The Yautja weren't stupid, so there were a bunch on board, eying their every move.

Father wasn't stupid either. I could see he already had have the data on them and a whole platter of blueprints downloaded.

But he was preoccupied and I was bored. So I kept a distance and looked around.

The Yautja didn't look friendly and the other scientists were sweating rivers.

I sang to pass the time.

I sang a whole set of songs before Father knelt before me and said we could go back. He looked very happy, so I was happy too.

When we were leaving I noticed a Yautja was staring intently at us.

I was terribly sick the next day. Father was close at my side, telling me not to worry. He said all I needed to do was sing. I didn't get it, but he repeated his answer anyway.

In fact, he became frenzied with it.

"You must sing, my dear," Father said, "Sing and sing!"

I didn't understand why. But I did so, I sang for my Father. Things became blurry again in those days. There were blurs of lab coats sometimes, but mostly just black splotches of nothing. I had a fever for what felt like a lifetime. Whenever I felt better, Father told me to sing.

He insisted I sing. He even hired a tutor to help me sing. She was a nice old lady, she kept telling Father I was to tired to sing, but he would insist. I sang as much as I could, and even I could tell that I was getting better at it.

"Why do you want to force it?" I heard her tell him once, "She already sings amazingly."

"She must sing," was his answer, "She must sing like an Angel."

Like an Angel. Like my Mum.

I sang even more.

One day, there was a banquet.

The Assembly decided that what was really itching on the Yautja's nerve was just that-nerves. They were grouchy and tired. So to please them, they held a dinner party.

Elegant, rich, everything Yautja weren't. I thought it stupid. They called it politics.

Anyway, it was exciting to watch them make a huge party out of it. There where fine round tables, and amazing pieces of tapestry. They emptied out the most expensive restaurant for the reception. I saw where there was going to be live entertainment. The Yaujta would be seated in a special corner of the room that let them see everything. The Ambassador of the President planned special performances that mirrored Yautja culture.

"I heard it was all drums and dancing over in their planet," He told the Planner, "So we're going to do this a la Africa."

This initially upset Father. Perhaps because the thought it racist.

But I wonder if it were because he thought I wouldn't be able to sing because of the strict dancing and drums rule.

"I demand that my daughter be set to sing!" Father had been pushing to get me to perform for days.

The Ambassador said it didn't go with the theme.

"My Daughter," Father seethed at him, "Must SING!"

I don't know how he did it, but they let me be on the performance schedule. Looking back at it now, I suppose it was because Father still hadn't given them the blueprints stolen from the Yautja ship. Blackmail didn't seem so bad when Father did it.

He just really wanted me to sing.

So I prepared, day after day, Father instructing me to practice diligently. If I felt tired, he had me rest. He wanted me in perfect condition when I sang at the banquet.

It was a lovely dinner party. The first I had ever been invited to. I got a nice red dress, red like the Yautja capes. Father had me go to a hairdresser. I was even allowed to wear a little makeup. Father said I looked lovely.

Like my Mother.

I felt great all day.

The dinner was for the most part, pleasant. Me and Father sat far from the Yautja (something he didn't like) but when the hour came closer to my performance, he seemed excited.

The dancing was extraordinary. Some of the ladies twirled sticks set on fire. There was a lively beat always. Sometimes the dancing was wild, other times it was slow and sad. The Yautja seemed partially impressed, but not all together intrigued. They seemed more amused every time they began commenting with each other. Probably saying how their dancers where better than ours.

"Remember, my dear," he said before I went backstage, "like an Angel."

I nodded at him.

"One more thing," he added, "Don't be afraid to look at the Yautja."

I found that odd, but nodded anyway.

I had never been afraid of the Yautja.

When I got onstage I felt butterflies in my stomach. I initially thought that I was getting sick again, but I realized it was just jitters. Everyone's eyes were on me. I thought of my Mother.

I began to sing.

Like an Angel.

Like my Mother.

I watched how proud my Father looked. He was about to cry.

Everyone seemed impressed.

Then I remembered.

I looked at the Yautja.

Why my Father thought I'd be afraid to look at them was beyond me. I found them interesting, to say the least. They seemed to enjoy my singing.

But I never questioned Father.

I sang a few more songs before I went back down.

Father embraced me in the middle of applause and cheers. I didn't think people would like it that much. Maybe they were just astonished that a girl so young could sing the way I could. I was barely a teenager.

"Excellent, my dear," Father whispered to me. I smiled and felt infinitely happy, "Just like your Mother."

I was glad I was finally like my Mother.

The day after that Father became much more special with me. He smiled more, gave me chocolates, he even gave me loads of presents. I was happy that Father was happy.

"Things are looking up," my dear Father would say, "Soon, we might even go back to Earth!"

Earth.

Imagine. Me. A girl, a child really, I had only heard of earth like a fantasy place. A fairytale. The place Mother wanted me to live.

I was thrilled.

I sang even more.

This made Father even more happy. He would even sing with me. I began to imagine…is this how normal families are? Happy, carefree, united? I believed so. Every time I watched Fathers recordings, I wouldn't be so sad anymore I'm sure Mother was happily watching us.

One night I dreamed of Mother…

She was gorgeous. Even more so than in the recordings and pictures. She was wearying white, and we were in a field. I knew it was Earth. My home.

"My dear…" she said, caressing my cheek. I was so happy to see her. "You are so beautiful, I'm so proud…Don't cry."

I woke up in excruciating pain.

Everything hurt. I thought I was going to die.

Poor Father. He was so worried. So desperate.

Lab coats and blurs were all I could see. I hated syringes. I hated needles. Bile came from my throat and I wanted to cry. Mother said not to.

"My dear, hang on!" oh, Father, I wish I hadn't seen you so stricken, so desperate, "You can't go now! Not now! Not when you can get better!"

I was unconscious for half of these days. The other half I only wished I was. Father was tearing his hair out, he looked like a zombie. I probably looked worse.

"Stay with me, my dear…" I saw him crying once. In the middle of the night, "Stay…"

I tried to look for Mother. I couldn't find her.

Then I heard her say, "You're not ready yet…"

I woke up again to my father shouting.

"WHAT TO YOU MEAN?" whoever was on the other end of the COM link was not getting the better end of the argument. "I thought that-"

"_Sir, I'm afraid-"_

"NO! things were going FINE-"

"_But you know how they are-"_

"What kind of IDIOTS do they hire in the Committee? BLOODY IDIOTS!"

"_Doctor-"_

Father terminated the transmission.

He saw I was awake and raced towards me.

"My dear…" he looked happy, but sorrow captured his face. My dear Father collapsed in a chair next to my bed, his hands covering his face, "Oh God…God…Oh, God…"

I didn't understand what God had done.

Or maybe Father was actually trying to talk to Him.

In any case, Father cried all night.

Perhaps I was going to die.

I slowly began to regain strength, but barely.

The doctors said that there was nothing more they could do. I was now a lost cause. A miracle would be nice, but God might be busy with others. I think they only said the last part because Father was a devote Catholic and it bothered them.

I was sitting in a chair when Father came bursting through the door.

"Come, dear," he said, taking me by the hands in earnest, "Yautja and Human relations might fail, but _I _will not fail _you_!"

He gave me more medication. Everyone had told him to stop, but he continued. Damning them all. He said that I was going to live. If Father said so, I believed it.

He insisted that I eat and drink. Insisted I take the medication even if I hated the taste.

"Come, now, my dear, make an effort…"

I was tired. I made an effort.

Blurry. Everything was blurry.

"My dear, you must gather your strength!"

Strength I never had, mind you.

"Your strength so that you may sing!"

Sing…

Sing and sing and sing. Why must I sing? Perhaps to make him happy. I liked to sing. My Mother sang.

I held on to singing. When blackness covered my eyes when they were open, I thought of signing. When shadows suffocated my lungs the thought of singing kept me awake. I needed to sing. I needed to get better. I told myself to breathe. To try.

Mother…Father…singing…

I woke up one day with a gasp.

My head hurt, I had a fever, but I was better.

"Come, dear…"

Father lead me to a hallway. Things were blurry, but I followed.

We stopped someplace I couldn't remember. I felt sleepy.

"Sing, my dear…"

I sang Ave Maria.

As I sang I closed my eyes and thought of a beautiful place. Heaven or Earth, I wasn't sure, but it was lovely.

He carried me home.

I sang day after day. Although Father smiled, he looked incredibly sad.

One day he knelt before me. I had been singing, but when I looked at his face I stopped quickly. He was very serious.

"You have your Mother's voice," he said, petting my head, "It couldn't save her, but by damn it'll save you."

If singing could've saved my Mother, I wondered if we would've been happier.

Father became a man on a mission for the days that came. I heard that Yautja/Human relations were getting worse by the second. I guess it was like Dr. Alexander said, negotiation wasn't in their dictionary.

The night before Summer (seasons were scheduled on the _Heavenfall_), father sat beside me on my bed.

We started at nothingness for a while, then he hugged me. I felt something sad and terrible tighten around my heart. Father was sad.

My illness had always been terminal. I was set to die.

We slept soundlessly.

My Father made such a grand breakfast the morning of Summer. I ate it all. We laughed for the first time since I was born.

I didn't know what was going through his head, but when he said we were going for a walk, I took his hand without questioning.

We walked passed all the parks, all the pools, all the schools, all the gardens…

Floor Zero was practically deserted.

Yautja/Human relations were so bad, they couldn't coexist in the same diplomatic floor anymore.

We walked for a while. I saw no Yautja. No human.

Father stopped suddenly. I waited.

He knelled before me. I saw in his face an uncontrollable shaking.

"I hope you don't hate me, my dear…" his voice was scarce and rough, "What I do is to save your life…"

I believed it when he said it was to save my life. Father never lied.

Hesitantly, he lifted his hand. I saw it shaking as if he were sick. I noticed for the first time that Father looked very thin.

He patted my head and ran his fingers through my hair. "Yautja can't sing…" He had tears in his eyes. "I heard they're fascinated with our singers, especially the women. They couldn't sing to save their life…"

He chuckled, hallow, and miserable, "They think 'Ooman females' sound like deities when they sing…"

"…Like Angels?" I asked.

Father smiled. He always smiled when I talked.

"Yes, my dear…like Angels…"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a Yautja standing in front of us. He stood at a distance, but he stared, arms crossed.

Father glanced at him.

Then he looked at me, "His name is Su'ete, he's an Arbitrator, remember what that is?"

I nodded. A policeman, a bodyguard, a judge, all at once…

Father hugged me again.

"You are _my_ Daughter, my dear," he said, crying profusely, "My daughter! All I want is for you to live! I swear it!"

As I saw the Yautja passed the shoulder of my Father, I began to tear up.

Father made me look back at him, his eyes serious, "He will take care of you. I have his word by his Honor. To Yautja that is special. Don't ever be afraid."

I nodded.

But I didn't want to.

I wanted to be afraid.

"I love you, my dear…"

Father stood up and guided me toward the Yautja.

He held me firmly at the shoulders, together we walked slowly towards the Arbitrator. Su'ete. A Yautja.

Would it be silly to tell you I still didn't understand what was going on? When it came to Father I choose not to understand, because I knew that he knew what was best. I understood everything else, except things my Father did. I accepted what my Father did, nothing more.

But then, I understood. I understood everything my Father told me. I understood his reasons.

But I did not _want_ to understand.

I was thirteen.

When we made it to the Yautja, with his golden armor and long red cape, Father kissed the top of my head. I felt him let go.

"You'll take care of her. I have your Honor."

I heard the Yautja nod.

I stared at nothing. I thought of nothing. I felt scared.

Fathers arms wrapped themselves around me one last time.

"All you have to do is sing, my dear…all you have to do is sing…like your Mother…like an Angel…just sing…"

I heard the roaring of an engine. The Yautja ship was getting ready to leave.

Father let go of me, the Yautja grabbed on to me.

As he lead me away, I would forever remember my Father's face.

He was hands and knees on the floor, reaching out to me, tears on his face.

"Daddy…"

I reached for him.

"Daddy!"

My hair was wild in the wind the Yautja ship created. My Father cried with me.

I understood.

I understand.

To save me, my father had to sell me.

My voice would make me a Canary.

Once upon a time, my Father thought that if Yautja/Human relations came through, they would share their medicine and he would find a cure for me. But since that was ceasing to be the case…

I was taken from _Heavenfall_ to go to a place some would call _Hell,_ never to see _Earth._

Yautja were more advanced than humans. They could cure my illness. Su'ete _would_ cure my illness…

That was the deal. He would cure me, make me better, make me live.

All I had to do was sing.

But I would miss my Father…


	2. Canary

**A/N:** By popular demand, this ficlet shall be continued. Thanks to all for such kind words.

**Question:** Would you like Yautja speech to be in English, or would you all rather our protagonist translate what they've said in their native tongue? This is crucial to the continuation of the story...

I hope I don't dissapoint. Let us sink into the world of the Yautja.

* * *

><p>They say that I only survived because an Arbitrator took me in. I think it was my voice that really saved me.<p>

At least, at first.

I will always be amazed at how quickly things began. The Yautja was quick with leading me into the ship. I heard the hanger close knowing I'd never see my Father again. Yet, everything continued to move forward. I wasn't allowed a moment for sadness. I was only allowed shock.

The Yautja had his strong hand clenched to my right shoulder as he took brisk steps. With all the purpose of the world he walked. Confident.

I remember a slight pain. Possible bruising. He lead me on.

At that moment I hadn't the mind to care about what was going on. Nor could I have comprehended it anyway. My thoughts whirled.

However, now I can remember and muse upon the finer parts of my first steps into Yautja Society. And also my first glimpse on who exactly was my new Owner.

As we walked further into the Yautja Ship, we passed three more Yautja. We caught their attention sure enough.

They called out to the one who held fast to my shoulder. I felt him tighten his grip.

They asked him what I was doing here.

"_I bought her."_

I appreciated his honesty.

Things were as simple as that. He answered them without pausing his gait. I didn't know their reactions. So powerful and confident was this Yautja. He could've entered with a hoard of children. I doubt that would have stopped him from walking.

The Yautja Ship was dark. I was lead further in.

The world was filled with black and low gleaming lights. And faces I wanted to hide from. These were my first few steps.

The first day, he let me mourn the loss of my Father.

I was silent.

The Yautja Arbitrator's room was huge. I don't remember what was in it. I do know that there was a window the size of the world.

Through the window, I saw the _Heavenfall_ become smaller and smaller. As it shrunk I realized. I would really never see Father again. Ever.

The fact the he was gone was surreal. No. The fact that _**I **_was gone was grasping.

I thought of it like a person dying. As he separated from his body, his soul would look down at his corpse and feel at odds.

I looked down at _Heavenfall_. My corpse.

I was once there. Now I won't be. I was here. Away.

I felt at odds.

Throughout that day, I sat close to that window. I hugged my knees. I was at a corner. One small corner of the vast piece of glass. It was cold where my arm was.

Sometimes I would look into the loneliness of space. Other times I looked at the friendlessness of my knees.

As I rested my head on the glass, I thought of it breaking. How easy it would end if the glass broke. I would be sucked into nothingness and die. Easy. And simple.

Strange thoughts for a child my age.

The second day, he came to me.

I don't remember him sleeping. Or leaving. Or arriving.

I had been next to the window since I got there. I don't think I slept.

He knelt before me.

My eyes fruitlessly looked at cold glass. His visors. He still had his mask on.

I traced his every movement as he lifted both hands up to his head. He placed his black claws at either side of the mask. I nearly started at the sound of a hiss. White smoke came from his head. His mask lowered.

His eyes were green.

My eyes trailed every mark on his face until I reached his mouth.

His mandibles flared. He roared at me.

I should've jumped. Instead I blink slower than usual.

Maybe I was tired.

The Yautja rumbled. Again, he lifted one of his hands. He touched the base of my throat with his talons. He slid it upwards to my chin. Slowly.

I was confused.

He did it again. And huffed.

Oh.

He wanted me to sing.

Ah, singing. The reason I was here. I wasn't allowed to be miserable anymore. I had a job to do. A person buys merchandise for a reason.

I sang the first thing that came to mind.

To my ears, it sounded hallow. But it wasn't. I sang with feeling. I sang missing Father.

When I finished, the Yautja stood up.

He seemed satisfied.

I knew the reason I was here. He wanted to make sure.

I can image how annoying it would have been to have a child that didn't know she had just been bought. Her crying would've been bothersome.

He left.

I sang again. Alone.

It didn't seem hallow.

I sang my Father goodbye. My past Goodbye.

From then on, I had to sing fully. Or he would get tired of a soulless voice.

Then where would Father's efforts go? To waste.

I couldn't do that.

I needed to live.

I needed to Sing.

For Daddy.

He came back again. Later in the day (or night, I'm not sure). He didn't tell me to sing.

He did so the next day. And the next. He only came to sleep. So it seemed. I had dosed off a few times. I wondered if it was nap time, or night time, or dream time.

He seemed fine with me staying next to the window. I was dreadfully cold.

This could have gone the same for three days.

The third day he came back. He seemed upset.

He walked briskly, but with an air of grimace. I watched him. He stopped at a nest of skins and cloths. I began to question why I hadn't thought of going there to get a least some warmth.

He sat on top of these bundles of cushions, heavily releasing a loud thumps as he did so. His arms outstretched and rested on the pile around him. He leaned his head back. For seconds he glared at the ceiling.

With a growl he turned his head. He gestured for me to sing.

I did so.

He repeated it and I sang again.

His eyes continued to stare off into the ceiling. He looked sleepy. He folded his arm under his head and I was singing once more. He closed his eyes.

I thought I sung him to sleep.

I was in the middle of one of my favorite melodies.

That's where the pain started.

I screamed louder than I thought myself capable. I never felt so much agony.

It began in my stomach.

I clawed at it.

I thought maybe I could tear my insides out. It might hurt less.

Then my head screeched.

I shook my head madly.

I wanted the vultures out of my brain.

I remember my nails drawing lines of blood at my arms.

I was dying.

I was finally dying.

Pain engulfed me. Breathing was a foreign practice to me. I felt fast movement. I was being taken somewhere.

Blurs.

I said hello to blurs again.

My life had always been blurs.

I was going to die in blurs.

Blurs of figures. Looking down at me. Carrying me. I felt metal. At my back. I felt nails going through my body. Ripping me apart.

Blurs of voices. Voices I didn't understand. Would I ever? Foreign voices. Alien voices.

Father…

Blurs.

Blurs and blurs. I began to panic.

Where was Father?

In my life of blurs, Father was always there.

Father was always with me.

Where was Father now?

I screamed.

In my head.

Out loud.

My scream was a blur.

Bright lights in between thick black. Silhouettes of beings. I wanted my Father. I had no one to reach for.

I didn't want to die.

I felt needles. Needles and vaccines. Medication. I thought of the Doctors.

I hated the Doctors.

Blurs of electricity. It went through me. The air was thick.

Needles and needles and needles.

I heard machines.

I heard voices.

I heard knives.

Blurs.

All of it.

I smelt blood. My blood.

For a moment.

A fleeting moment.

I felt a pang of pain. Raw. Cold. Pain.

My soul lifted.

I turned my head and saw myself.

I went crashing down.

I drowned in myself. I coughed my soul. Sputtered out my heart. Reached for God.

I saw Mother.

I asked her how Father was doing.

She called me silly.

I fainted. Into Limbo. Into the place between Heaven and Hell.

My brain whirled. Puking seemed possible, but only in theory. Reality was a concept. Not an action. Life was an abstract idea.

Fancy that, life being abstract.

I woke in blurs.

I remember my first thought.

Am I dead now?

Of course I wasn't. How silly of me.

I didn't realize it until a little after, though.

My eyes where up again a harsh light. A dark shadow came from the corner of my view. I thought perhaps it might be God. Then again, wouldn't He be shining? I supposed it was the Devil then. But since it was so bright, I thought I could've been in between gates.

Turns out I was at neither.

I was laying on a bed.

The Yautja standing next to me was the same one who bought me.

His head was shadowed by the light above the room.

I dimly recall being connected to a machine. Being wired by IV and such. Feeling tired.

I looked up at the Yautja.

"_Nan-ku."_

He said.

Alive.

I learned later that _Nan-ku _meant Alive.

I was Alive.

How nice.

I was well enough to sit up. Then to eat.

Yautja Healers gathered around me. They didn't really seemed interested in my health. Rather that they had succeeded. Like they knew they would have. They had no doubts. This was only protocol.

I wanted to smile when I thought of the Doctors.

But I had no Father to hate them with me.

My Owner stood at a distance. Staring. Arms crossed.

He didn't seem concerned. He was more expecting. He was waiting for me to get up and stop being a baby.

I wouldn't disappoint.

I stood. I walked.

Looking back at it now, I think the Healers were impressed. Impressed at me trying to be brave. Trying. Because I was still but a child.

I'm sure they thought it best for me to remain in bed. For observation. Testing.

But my Owner had seen enough.

He stalked towards me. Huge and in charge.

He glared down at me. I thought he was glaring, at least. It didn't matter. He nudged his head. With one swift movement he began to walk.

I followed.

The world was still dark with eerie glowing colors, but I felt as if the blurs were fading away.

The corridors and hallways continued until we made it to some form of elevator. I looked around and noticed everything made with some sort of foreign metal. I wondered how they could see in so much darkness.

When we got off on floor number whatever it was, he continued onwards and I followed as the lamb I was.

Doors slid open. We were back at his room.

By now _Heavenfall_ was gone. Stars glowed. The only light in what would've been darkness. I wondered if all Yautja rooms had windows as big as this one.

I looked up at the Yautja. I doubted it.

He began walking again, to the place with a thousand cushions and pillows. I noticed that it wasn't his bed. It was more like a nest. If one would replace the furs and skins with bean bag chairs it would've been perfectly normal looking.

Anyway, he made it there and began stalking the pile for a minute. I was close by.

He glanced at me, and then at a random pillow.

Crouching down, he took one and throw it a short distance away from the nest.

It only took me a second to realize the gesture.

I laid myself down, bringing the cushion closer. It was big enough to make myself comfortable. My upper body anyway.

He threw me a fur next. And with that his hospitality and himself went to the other side of the room.

I thought of it as a step forward. Or backward. In the right direction or the left. In any case it was a step.

I felt tired.

I remember tracing the intricate embroidery. I moved my finger to the floor of blue thread and green on top of sand cloth. It reminded me of something I read in a History Book. Of Prussia, maybe. Arabia. Genies that camp from lamps…princesses and magic carpets…

I didn't know I was going to have my first dream that night.

Or rather, my second. If I didn't count the one with Mother.

But I felt that the one with Mother wasn't a dream. It was real.

So this was my first.

But anyway, it took me awhile to actually get there. I vaguely tried to focus on things hanging from the ceiling above. I wanted to see where the Yautja slept.

It wasn't important, though. Right now I didn't have to remember any of it because it would never be significant.

So I slept. I dreamed.

If I tallied my winnings, I would've been at a three.

I was Alive, for one.

I had somewhere to sleep. (A pillow and a blanket right next to a nest full of comfortable furs and cushions. But a step is a step is a step.)

And I was beginning to have a memory.

Back when I was dying, my life was foggy. I remembered things that were important. Everything else fell back into blurs.

Details that interested me where archived. But they weren't completely vivid.

My illness had always made it clear that having memories and focusing on things was useless. My mind was always more preoccupied with trying to survive. I was going to die anyway.

But now that I wasn't the fog began to clear.

As smart as I had once been, I would be considered genius now. I was finally allowed gather data and put it to use. Of course, now it wouldn't be in an academic sense. I was nothing more than a pet now. One that could've one day gone to Harvard, but still.

The point is that now that I was cured, I had the ability to use everything at an 100% value. I would never feel tired when I found something out and I wouldn't appear to be distracted when I put two and two together in my mind.

I had no way of knowing then, but this was crucial in my survival.

The days that continued were much like the three days before my supposed Death Bed.

The Yautja would come and go. I would not notice when in either case.

I spent a lot of my time sleeping.

I still needed time to recover. I had decided that I rather do it by myself then with the Healers.

They reminded me to much of the Doctors. It provoked my dislike.

My Owner would bring me nourishment. It came in the form of fruits.

I would catch it (because he always threw it) and eat.

I never gave it much thought. Food was food and I doubted that he would poison me.

It was always enough to fill me up. Some, if it was juicy enough, to quench my thirst as well.

Once or twice he had to bring me water. It tasted strange but it was good enough.

I wasn't in a position to complain.

He always appeared to be irritated. Sometimes he would stare at me with distorted features on his face.

These were obscure times for me.

Sometimes when I tried to save some of the food he gave me, he would growl. I had to eat everything or else he wouldn't stop glaring at me. The reason I tried to save the food was just in case he didn't come for a long time and I would be hungry.

He would give me a lot to eat.

Other times he gave me little.

He would make sure I ate one day and the next he would give me my rations and leave.

Unpredictable. Irritably also.

As said before, he always looked angry. Some invisible torment irked him to no end.

When I got better I noticed something else.

He hadn't asked me to sing.

I thought that maybe this was what my life would be like. Days would go without me singing, and I would only do so if it suited his fancy.

But this wouldn't do. I was sure one day he would get bored of me that way.

But I was still to new to this world to know how to proceed.

I pondered on these thoughts and focused on my health.

The day came when he was in his fouler moods. When he came in he seemed ready for blood.

I saw his claws clench to the point I was sure there would be blood.

Surely I should have been afraid. His growls were fierce enough.

Then again, I remembered my Father.

Don't ever be afraid, he said.

With an angry Yautja in the room I wondered how to apply that.

Thinking of Father lead to more thoughts of him.

Days Father was irritated happened from time to time. The Board of Directors had a habit of annoying their employees. Often my poor Father was overworked. Tired.

I wondered if Yautja were overworked. If this Yautja was overworked. Tired, perhaps. Annoyed.

I would sing for my Father.

That always made him feel better in those days.

Now, this Yautja, however my Owner he may be, would never be Father. The mere thought was a joke.

Still, a Canary is meant to Sing.

So that's what I did.

When I looked up after finishing, he was there. On his furs and pillows.

He regarded me silently for minutes.

Then he bobbed his head.

I sang again.

I realized he had been cautious with me.

I had just came out of the very claws of Death, my condition (how I hated the word) was still up to debate.

I summarized the idea that he had been concerned. He must've thought that if I strained myself to much, he would lose his prize. So he had not asked me to Sing in these days to make sure it would not damage me.

Sick leave, I mused.

He was still treading on a just in case. I saw it in his face, now that it was clear.

Before he ordered me to sing again, he appeared hesitant. When I was done he didn't ask for more. I was apparently done for the day.

I found it smart. Like an athlete recovering from a sprain or the like.

As the days progressed, I would Sing a little, then not, then Sing again. I would take it a step at a time until I was back to tip top shape.

At first he was still uneasy with it. But in short time his demand was casual.

Like a true coach, he would demand my fullest effort.

Yautja should know a thing or two about the process of recovery. They were athletes themselves.

When he was finally satisfied with knowing I had better than okay, things began to routine.

Sometimes he would ask me to Sing, other times he would not.

But I also Sung on my own.

I convinced myself that if I left it to him, he would soon grew bored of the trinket that I was and cast me off.

Not exactly beneficial.

So I Sang when I felt like it and Sang when I was Bored.

And I was.

Bored, that is.

I was on an intergalactic space ship but I only stayed in one room.

I didn't want to run into another Yautja outside. And it seemed like forever when my Owner was away. And even if he was in the room, unless he told me to Sing, things weren't exciting.

So I Sang.

I suppose it was a good strategy. He appeared less irritated.

But this routine was lived short.

I figured I wouldn't spend my life on this Yautja Ship.

I had to go to their Homeworld eventually.

Eventually was now.


	3. The Bird Gets A Cage

Naïve as I was, I had no idea of the event that was about to transpire.

I was a child as I was bored. Combined, this makes for a rather stupid specimen.

The day came when I was lazily looking at the stars that I finally noticed. My Owner paced the room in agitation. His arms and hands flexed uneasily, and though I would never advise to say so aloud and in from of a Yautja, I would have said he had a bad case of the jitters.

I found it admittedly strange. My Owner was an Arbitrator. He was respected and Honored. He had more power in his pinky than most men have in generations of their families.

So why was he upset?

I would Sing for him, but he seemed so distracted that I doubt he heard me. Other times the mere sound of me Singing made him look even more tense.

Of course, this made _me_ nervous. I felt like pacing the room in a panic myself.

This remained the same for several days. Little did I know of the reason, but I did begin to suspect.

Something big was on the rise. A child can sense these things. And thus I began to make a list of possible scenarios.

Perhaps he has a disagreement with one of his comrades?

A higher up?

Or rather, he had to much work? Father always had to much work and suffered similar symptoms...

He wasn't Father.

Thinking of my dear Father led me to think about Earth.

Yautja and Human relations must be spiraling down.

Faltering negotiations?

War?

No. I didn't think he'd be overly concerned about war. From what I know of Yaujta, they would enjoy war. Why would they need to fear? They laugh at negotiations, humans are nothing to them.

Except for the ones with talent. Those they buy.

Pushing away the irrelevant, I continued to ponder and list.

The stillness gave one time to think in this wandering ship.

Ship.

Ah, there. I realized I had been rather foolish with all my guessing. A ship was a form of transportation, was it not?

I imagined the Yautja home world.

I began to wonder is my destination was set for it. I have grown up on the huge ship _Heavenfall_, but this Yautja ship was nothing like my old vessel. It had no accommodations for living, as far as I had seen.

So this ship was for travel.

To their home? Another planet? A bigger ship?

The days stretched and the shadow of anticipation spread over me. I had never truly experienced an emotion such as this. To live had been, for me, secondary instinct, emotions reserved for my Father and nothing else.

So the days spawned and I stared intently though the window. Wondering. Waiting.

My surroundings nearly became invisible.

Then one day I saw it.

Small at first.

A glimmer of something I thought I was imagining.

It didn't take long for it to no longer be a spec. Soon, I realized that what I was seeing was exactly what I thought it was.

I'm still surprised at how wide my eyes became when it finally got close enough to see clearly.

The Yautja planet was like a marble among the stars.

Beside me, my Owner let out a huff.

I had not notice Him. When I looked up, He merely glance at me. He, too, stared upon the world below. His arms were crossed. He no longer looked troubled.

It was His way of telling me. This was my problem. I should worry. Not Him.

I looked back at the planet. As time moved forward, so did the world.

The closer it got I realized how much it resembled the pictures of Earth I had seen.

More green in some parts…a brighter…more aqua glow…

It looked similar. But everything in it was different. The people. Their ways.

It was not the planet my Mother wanted me to live in.

Sleep had taken over me at some point. I dreamt myself in gold and embraced by gentle hands. But dreamland left in a scuffle. There was no room for it here.

So I slept. For a sort, dreamless time.

When I awoke I noticed things were moving. Or rather, they were being moved.

I turned around on my makeshift beddings.

I saw Yautja. Smaller Yautja than my Owner (must I call him that?). These Yautja were picking and packing things up.

I was briefly reminded of when Father moved me to the higher-up Labs.

I peered through my window. The Yautja world was closer than ever. But we were still not close enough. Not yet.

I remained unmoved in my little piece of space. I huddled closer to the window. My knees where uplifted. Sometimes I looked at the Yautja. Coming and going. Lifting and moving. Other times I watched the world come closer and closer.

It appeared as if the Yautja cared not for my presence. They ignored me.

But all they're working and pushing bothered me. Was I not property of my Yautja Owner? Was I to be packed up?

All these things He had…did they not notice this other trinket laying amongst discarded cloth?

And these Yautja did not look as intimidating as the ones I'd seen before. They were not demanding of respect. They never lifted their heads up high. Why did they move his things?

Servants. I realized.

One by one. These Servants (later I learned the word was Aseigan) picked away at the Arbitrators things. Leaving the room vacant. Bare.

To me it looked no different. When nothing belongs to you, you always see things empty.

When the last of the Servants left, the Arbitrator returned.

I saw him approach in his gold armor. He didn't bother to inspect the handiwork of his now empty room.

He walked briskly. When he came near me, all I was graced with was his mere glance.

The window was his aim.

I looked towards it. Downwards to the approaching world below me.

In this stripped room only I remained.

He came to collect me.

How nice of him.

The ship rumbled in the atmosphere of the Yautja World. It wasn't overly disturbing. But it did move me.

The Arbitrator stood firm. His arms crossed as he looked at his home.

Was he happy? Irritated?

I wondered if I were to ever decipher his aura.

Breaking through the clouds was like a dream.

For a moment I thought I was blessed. So wonderful was the sight.

Almost like Heaven.

But then, if the clouds where Heaven, I was falling from it. Was I not?

Religious allegories were complicated that way.

The Yautja Arbitrator turned sharply away from the window.

He began to exit his chamber at once.

For a moment I wondered what I was to do. But it was obvious.

I had to follow my Owner. There was no longer reason for me to be here.

The darks and shadows of the Yautja ship were no more brighter than when I first came aboard.

I had to walk quickly to keep up with the Arbitrator. Though I fell behind often, he did not slow down for me. I kept from running. I thought it would be frowned upon for me to appear jovial. Or eager.

I was not eager. The more we traversed through the ship, the more my lungs became tightened.

For a while I thought I was still sick. He had not cured me. I was sweating and my pulse soared. I was sure I would faint. This Yautja has lied to my Father and now he had to take me back to him so I could die in peace.

But no. This was not true.

As I clasped my shaking hands I realized I was only…

"_M-di'h'dlak_."

My Owner growled.

I looked up and found him glaring at me past his shoulder.

"_M-di'h'dlak_."

He growled again.

I did not understand what he _said_, but I did understand what he _meant_.

_M-di'h'dlak_. No fear.

I learned that later.

I could not be afraid. I could not pretend I was still a child that had a right to be afraid.

I thought of Father and kept up faster.

The sun of the Yautja Home World was bright.

Unbearably bright.

My senses where knocked about at once when we exited the ship.

It was loud. And crowed. And smelled like earth and sweat.

The sun's glare hit my eyes with no mercy. I tried to cover my eyes with my hand but ended up using my whole arm.

I feared I would get lost in this sea of aliens.

I grabbed hold of my Owner's cape.

He didn't seem to mind. He continued to walk on.

It always felt like when he strode, nothing could stop him. He had this important place to be. He was on unstoppable force.

He did not pause.

At one point another Yautja walked up to my Owner.

He shook his shoulder and my Owner did the same to him. This other Yautja did not have armor on, but he was far from a Servant.

He seemed to respect my Owner. And my Owner cared enough to stop walking.

They exchanged brief words. Words I didn't understand.

For a moment I examined this other Yautja, with his darker brown scales and younger build.

He looked down at me.

A jolt went through me. My eyes fell to the floor.

I was an alien amongst aliens.

The other Yautja inquired about me. I heard him click

My Owner gave me a fleeting glance before he responded. Casually.

"_Mach'kota."_

A pet.

It appeared as if he didn't think I was a big deal.

"_Ell-osde e'che Ma'ch-paya._"

Clicked the other Yautja.

"_Sei." _my Owner answered him again.

"_Anto?"_

"_E'ye Leitjin-de Kan't'kwe, Ma'sao" _now he was growling,_ "E'ye e'che Ma'ch-paya."_

_Ma'ch-paya._

They kept saying it. I figured it was important.

I had no way of knowing of just how important it would be for me.

The other Yautja realized he had angered my Owner. He bowed his head.

My Owner resumed walking.

At one point we managed to get passed the crowd of Yautja around us.

But as we did so I felt the eyes of thousands.

Every time I lifted my eyes, a Yautja was glowering down at me.

I kept my head low.

There were no roads.

The sun's heat was beginning to thunder down upon me. I was helpless. My head began hurting.

For the first time, my skin was a color other than white.

I can offer to description of the buildings of the Yautja. As I kept my head down, I barely saw much of anything.

But they were made of stone. A sand colored stone. I was reminded of pyramids from the books I used to read.

But theses were not pointed triangles.

They were more Aztec in nature. Mayan.

It was all I could gather before being glared at by a passerby.

Hours, it seemed. We walked unit I was too exhausted to feel bothered.

The sun beat down at me. I was out of shape. I was never in shape.

I must have fallen asleep.

When I awoke we were in front of a massive abode.

It seemed to spring right out of the ground.

A rectangular palace.

With a jungle right behind it.

We entered a long hallways adorned with pictures. Sculptures.

All the while I held on to my Owner's cape.

I was in such awe. I didn't notice we were ending the hall.

A large sitting room.

It's what it appeared to me.

Trophies and trinkets were in all the corners. The roof was high set. A dome let the light in.

The floor. The walls. All were the same sand color.

Bright hieroglyphs adorned the walls. The columns where laced with expensive cloth.

Everything was incredibly open.

I peered at other rooms. Only columns separated some. Others had hallways.

In the center of this room, there was nothing. An empty space.

It looked like a small alter. It had little steps. Four. It went up to a wide, square, flat.

As if a centerpiece was meant to be there.

But the Arbitrator hadn't found one yet.

I realized the room was meant to be the first impression of anyone who entered His house.

He was a Yautja that had so many trophies. He could place them everywhere.

He could have all the expensive cloths he wanted.

His house was huge.

But he lacked a center.

I smirked at myself.

My first snide thought. I was growing up.

A small Yautja came up to us from the left. He was wearing nothing but a brown loincloth.

Still. He was taller than I was.

He came with his head bowed. Along with the rest of his body.

I immediately pitied him.

My Owner, however, did not.

He extended his arm towards Servant's direction. He glanced at him briefly. As if the mere sight of him was disgusting.

"_Aseigan." _

He said.

And that's how I learned the Yautja word for Servant.

Singular. And plural.

The Aseigan was to fed me.

I ate some fruit in the kitchen. The Aseigan never lifted his gaze. It looked like years of submission had kept him that way .

My Owner came to collect me.

I took some mental notes.

It seemed a worthy Yautja must never look upon a mere Aseigan.

My Owner always had his head held up high when an Aseigan was present.

It intimidated.

I was given a tour.

A garden, of sorts, was at the back. Wild trees and fruits could be picked from the branches whenever one desired.

A huge training room. To keep sharp. Weapons of all sorts where kept here.

He had a study.

A desk made of bones and bark stood firmly surrounded by shelves of scrolls.

I realized he also has transmitters. And Yautja computers at the touch of his hand.

There were rooms for guests.

My Owner had a large banquet hall.

And this, admittedly, was a favorite of mine.

Just passed the endless table.

If you could imagine a patio door…without the door. It was a huge opened entrance.

At either side of the entrance was a statue.

It was Yautja. But a woman Yautja.

Anyway, pasted this large entrance was a pond.

It was a crystal clear pool of water. Strange planets floated on it.

Around it, wild trees grew. They canopied over it.

And just beyond that, was the jungle.

It felt like an invitation to the wild.

He let me stare at it for minutes.

All this was like a maze to me. He lead me to and fro. Back to front. All the way around.

I imagine it was late when we arrived to his sleeping quarters.

A true place for a king.

An Arabic king.

Long tapestries hung from the walls. Golden. Sapphire.

His most impressive trophies hung on the walls, lighted by light-bulbs.

Others where posted up on stands.

The only ones I could recognize had strange names.

Xenomorphs? Where they?

Regardless. These skulls were huge. I recalled something about them being from Queens.

His bed was covered in furs and skins.

In fact, there was much of that here.

Carpets. Hides. All thrown carelessly. All making the room majestic.

Jewelry hung from poles.

Ringlets. The kind Yautja put on their hair. And long necklaces with animal teeth. Some teeth were gold painted. Beads and stones.

It was here that my Owner finally looked at me.

He seemed bothered.

I was tired.

It seemed that it never occurred to him where I would sleep.

He continued to stare with a look of annoyance.

I remembered a story where the slave slept in the kitchen.

But I wasn't a slave.

Then again. What was I really?

Something a Yautja owned. Nothing more.

What did I mean to him?

I was worth nothing more than my voice.

Fatigue loomed over me. I began to sway.

At this point my Owner made up his mind with me.

He took my firmly by my shoulder and lead me to a far corner of his room.

I felt myself bruise.

The corner was not as cluttered.

Like before, I was thrown some cushions and furs. A rerun of the past.

Shoved to an unimportant space once more. I knelt down in my little nest.

Was I an animal? A pet?

I was a bird.

When I laid my head down on the embroidered pillow, I drifted.

The knitted symbols were like water.

Flowing and flowing.

Blue.

I never had my Mother sing me a Lullaby.

Father. Sometimes. Would hold me close as I fell asleep.

Safe and warm.

I Sang a little.

Still such a child. I pretended my Parents were here.

By the time I fell, I heard nothing but purring.

Anyway, that was only my first day.

A Yautja year is 2.25 human years.

There are 18 months a year. 5 weeks a month. 9 days a week.

36 hours a day. 90 minutes an hour. 90 seconds a minute.

Jet lag was horrible.

I awake. My Owner is gone.

I awake. He is asleep.

I'm tired. He's far from it.

My body struggled to adjust.

Bowls of fruit are near me when I awake. Always.

The Aseigan avoid me. I think. I also doubt they give me the bowls. My Owner didn't seem like one who let Aseigan in his room.

They make me uncomfortable. The Aseigan. I fear I am too much like them.

I, too, am here only to serve the Arbitrator.

Speaking of Him. He was in settling mode.

Like a true businessman. He came from a long trip and had to get back in a groove.

He was constantly on the move. It's here I realized how hard He worked. In fact, it appeared my Owner was a workaholic. If he wasn't out for hours on end, he was inside toiling away. Even when he trained he seemed tense. The job of an Arbitrator was demanding, at best. It was only natural for him to seek some form of distraction. A way to relax himself.

And I, songbird as I am, was that outlet.

His stress subsided with my Songs.

I act as a pain reliever.

Anyway, it was one morning that it finally happened.

My Owner Arbitrator laid the usual bowl of fruit at my nest. With that little formality out of the way, He curtly began to walk out of His room.

Times like this troubled me. I wondered if I should follow Him.

Other than this room, I didn't feel like I _belonged_ anywhere. Should I wander His house? Explore? These thoughts where partly useless. If He wanted me to follow him, he would gesture me to do so. He did that whenever he wasn't going out.

But I felt as if I was still up in the air. He was hiding something from me. He himself didn't dare get to comfortable with me.

My stay in His care wasn't…official yet. So it seemed.

Sighing. I leaned back on the sandy wall with my fruit.

I Sang.

As I did I wondered briefly about what was missing.

My mind wandered with every note.

The final piece. What would make be belong here? To my Owner. I hated calling Him that. What else could I? I was an object. A thing. Yet…Something told me I was to be more.

I stopped my Singing. My Owner had not left.

I stared at his intimidating form.

For a moment I feared he was angry with me.

Then, suddenly, he nodded.

With a gruff he walked away.

Puzzled with thoughts. I remained so until my Owner came back.

He seemed different. I was sure something has changed.

I was still in his room when he returned. He stared at me for the longest of times. With that He made sure I knew that this change had to do with me.

It was exciting. And strange all at once.

Days past. My Owner had the guise of a man who had accomplished something from his work-list, but that it wasn't entirely closed.

Whatever it was. It needed confirmation.

The day came where my Owner arrived with a gift of sorts.

He knelt down to my level. I was quick at attention. I watched him as he bent to lift something next t him.

A dress. White as snow.

In his room of colors and splendor, this mere dress stood out in a striking glow.

For a moment I looked down at my own dress.

The only thing I had from the my past.

It was ragged. A hospital's garb. A sick person's robe. Pathetic. Really.

I looked backed at the garment before me. Simple. Elegant. Flower-like lace at the side. With sort sleeves. Modest but classy.

I marveled at it. As if it where fit for royalty.

I reached out. But stopped myself.

The dress was pure and perfect. Compared to my muddy hand.

I felt like a ragamuffin.

My Owner surely sensed this.

He led me to the baths.

He gestured me to take a dip. Leaving politely.

I gladly did so.

I was dirty. Filthy.

I realized just how long I had been without bath.

The water was green. Not exactly water. It certainly cleaned me better than the showers I had been in before.

I knew how to bathe myself. I had been sick before, but Father would never allow a strange woman to help me wash.

My new dress was near me.

I dried myself well before daring to put it on.

My dress. Something that was mine. On this alien planet. Could it be possible?

I smiled.

I also brushed my hair.

I used my fingers. Most of the knots were easy. The water had loosened it.

Things began to piece together.

My Owner had booked a special day for me.

I was reminded of the dinner party held at the _Heavenfall_. All that time ago.

But I wasn't to go to a party.

My Owner was waiting for me outside the baths.

He took me out.

The Yautja sun was still excruciating. My limbs hurt.

We trekked for hours. In a more remote path. The jungle foliage was better than glaring Yautja, however. We walked in a densely planted area. I kept close to my Owner.

He too was dressed in finery. Black armor. Like that of a raven. It shimmered in the light of the sun. I knew he had freshly polished it.

No cape this time. It seemed he wanted to be presentable, but down toned.

The sky above me was a canopy of tall jungle trees.

I gazed at them in wonder. Very much the child in a fairytale wood.

I Sang some.

No birds sang in the Yautja planet.

In these wandering tunes I lost myself. The walk seemed to lessen.

In a middle of a melody I looked down and noticed.

A small Yautja gathering came to view.

I bowed my head.

I felt like an Aseigan.

A small clearing separated itself. Surrounded by jungle. This was not a permanent Yautja village. I knew.

There were not huts. No homes. This was merely a gathering place.

A gathering for what, I would know soon.

My Owner had not been deterred by this new audience. He walked on. Sure as ever.

As we advanced the Yautja were less sparse.

At either side of us. A long line of Yautja lined up. Watching as we moved on.

I was being lead.

In an act of bravery. Foolishness. Audacity, if nothing else.

I looked up.

I saw an alter.

No.

A throne.

Mayan in appearance. Hundreds of steps went up to a regal chair.

Red clothed. Held up and made of bone and wood. A huge diamond was atop of it.

A queen sat on it.

My Owner knelt before the base of this godly throne.

I stared at him in wonder.

His eyes where to the ground. His head bowed.

He was submissive.

I went on my knees.

If my Owner. An honored Yautja. A respect demanding Yautja. Bowed before this figure, surely I was no one to think myself above.

"_Ah'tu'lamm,_ _Su'ete'aka."_

A female voice sounded. Strong. Powerful. With authority. Aged.

My Owner responded.

"_Ah'tu'lamm, A'yate Ma'ch-paya._"

_Ma'ch-paya._ A Yautja Matriarch.

I read of them. Things became clear.

Yautja women are highly respected. Matriarchs sit at the head of all the clans and all the families. The wise mothers of all.

Where Yautja males do the work of society. Females keep things running.

They keep things civil. They are the backbone of the world.

Without this Matriarch's blessing, I had no place in this world.

She would decided my fate.

"_Ell-osde Pyode Amedha_?"

"_Se-i, Ma'ch-paya._"

I heard a noise. Not unlike a laugh you keep in your throat. Coming from Her.

My Owner had told the Matriarch everything.

The deal that had been struck.

Father selling me. The Arbitrator curing me. Both parts of the deal kept.

It was up to Her to put the seal of approval.

If She didn't. I would be cast off.

A lovely thought. They would send me back to Father.

But no. Wishful thinking.

They would never send me back.

I knew this. I felt this.

She spoke again.

"_Pyode. Gkei'moun._"

Soft. Simple.

On the outside. That's all I was.

"_M-di'h'dlak_?"

The only word I knew at the time.

No fear.

I thought of Daddy.

I was not afraid.

Yautja can smell a persons musk. N'dui'se. As they call it. Much like a dog.

The Matriarch could smell my lack of fear.

A shrill hiss came from above us. It took seconds before I realized it was laughter.

She was laughing.

"_M-di'h'dlak. Sy'ua! Yeyinde Pyode Amedha_!"

She called me a brave human.

She laughed some more.

I felt Her gaze on me. My eyes where on the floor.

Her laughter subsided.

"_Yeyinde…Gkei'moun._"

Brave but simple.

What was I worth? What made me so special?

I showed Her how brave I was.

I Sang.

I was simple. Yes. Not beautiful like Mother.

Soft. All humans are. We're fragile things.

Weak.

I was told not to be afraid.

All I had to do was Sing.

That's what made me special.

It's all I had to convince her.

I stopped.

One song was all I would give.

Then I did the unthinkable.

I looked up at Her.

She was majestic.

"_Yeyinde Pyode Amedha._"

She was an old mother. Wrinkles sagged on her face. Each telling a story. Her long dreadlocks where grey. I could see even white. Golden rings adorned each strand. By the dozens. So much that I would barely see her hair. She was a tanned beauty. I could tell she was once a goddess in her youth. Dark brown spots covered her skin. She wore a dark red dress of silk. Only one short sleeve covered her right shoulder. The red cloth hung long past her legs. Both her arms had bracelets made of beads, or bands of gold. They rested on the throne's arms. Her diamond rings on each of her boney fingers shone in the late sun. A crown of gold and jewels hung from her head.

She looked at me fiercely with her yellow eyes.

If I was going to die, at least I knew the face of my killer.

"_Su'ete'aka."_

She looked down at the Arbitrator.

He dared not look up at Her.

But He _had_ been looking at me.

Wondering. Perhaps. If I had a death wish.

If I do survive at least he'll be impressed.

"_Su'ete'aka…e'ye anvida ell-osde mach'kota…_" the Matriarch rumbled. She stroked her chin. For a moment I imagined her smiling. Yautja can't smile. "_Yeva pei…let e'ye ac'ure et ell-ode."_

I bowed my head again. Feeling stupid. I had no idea what she said.

But. For some reason. I could breathe again.

The Arbitrator nodded once.

He got up.

He was already on the move again. Leaving the shrine.

He gestured for me to get up.

I followed him quickly.

I wondered if any of the Yautja would reach out and grab me. Stop me from leaving. Imprison me. Worse.

They didn't.

We were half way out. Going back the way we came.

I understood now. Why it was easy to breathe.

_A'yate Ma'ch-paya._

Matriarch A'yate.

I liked her.

I smiled.

The day after. I was summoned by the Arbitrator.

He lead me to sitting room. The one after the long hallway. His first impression maker.

Well, today it made an impression on me.

On the small alter. Right in the center.

I gazed at it for a while.

The Arbitrator kept his distance behind me. Arms crossed.

I stepped closer to the alter. At the thing on top of it.

Tentatively. I reached out. But I thought. If I touched it now. I could wake up.

Instead I took very little steps up the alter.

Step. After step. And step.

Four.

I sat down on the mattress-like cushion below me.

I looked up. I could see the sun roof.

I immediately though of a cage.

The bars where made of gold. They went so high. I doubted I could reach the top standing up. Maybe when I was older.

It was a square cage. Not much a cage though. There where bars on all the corners. I could climb the steps and enter the cage easily. The cage was big enough to fill the alter.

If someone would enter from the long hallway, the first thing he or she or it would see is me.

The Arbitrator's room finally had a center.

I looked up at the sky some more.

The Yautja sun didn't burn on me that much.

I closed my eyes.

And Sang.

I was a bird.

This was a cage.

The bird finally got it's cage.


	4. Siren Songstress

Looking back, I'm surprised I wasn't terrified. My Father sold (saved) me. My Yautja Arbitrator Owner cured me. Matriarch A'yate accepted me. There was no one left. My survival was now entirely up to me.

I had no more freebies.

Let me clarify.

My dear Father raised me. He looked after me. He went so far as to sell me to make sure I lived. I know of "fathers" who barely give their children a second thought. I counted myself lucky to have a Father who loved me. And cared. And nurtured.

But I'm getting too personal.

Moving on, we have my Arbitrator. He cured me. No illness could hinder me anymore. He was even tasked to see to my wellbeing from then on.

Matriarch A'yate. She gave me my final blessing. I could now start my new life in this alien world.

See a pattern? All of them gave me a means to my survival. Elements. Tools I had to use.

I was accepted. Sure. Now I had to make sure I stayed that way.

In this period of my life. This one instance of space and time. My life was finally in my own hands.

In short. I had to get the Arbitrator to like me.

At least. Like me enough to let me stick around. And not grow bored of me and possibly throw me away.

I had to plan this right.

So I observed him.

He lived a very rigid lifestyle.

He got up early. Slept late. He was prone to be out of the house a lot (imagine that, me calling an alien den a house). I had never seen him eat any meal yet. He fed me. Of course. Feeding himself was something I had no idea about.

I also noticed that he piled work onto himself. He always seemed to need to be someplace. Having to do something.

His only hobby was training. I noticed that one day.

He would go to his training room and kill imaginary foes with his sharp knives. But even that seemed like a chore to him. Another "job" he needed to do.

I'm sure it relaxed him. Long ago. But now it only irritated him.

He would tense and every swing. Growl at every lunge. I was sure there was some sort of pent-up anger in him. Something. With his heavy breathing. It always looked as if he was more agitated than when he started. He always seemed like he was about to slaughter someone.

He was very intense.

So what's a little girl to do?

I didn't like staying in the Arbitrator's room. It was claustrophobic.

Since Matriarch A'yate blessed me. The weight I felt had lifted. I didn't feel confined to that one place. Of course. I far from thought of the Arbitrator's den as my own. But I no longer considered myself a whole outsider.

I dared to wander the house. The Arbitrator was out again.

Often, he would leave as soon as he gave me my morning meal.

Now, I can't be expected to eat and Sing at the same time. He wasn't giving me much to work on.

But moving on.

His home was a maze. I would wander a bit. Wanting to see if I remembered my way around.

Sometimes. I made it to the kitchen without backtracking. I always thought the Arbitrator would return and not find me. I didn't want to be scolded.

But in a day or two. I wandered with little to no pressure.

I happened upon the Aseigan. Once. Way in the back of the house.

The slave part. I discovered.

I figured what I felt about the Aseigan.

They were like the homeless on the street. The addicts. You pitied them. But you didn't want to look at them. Because you don't know how to help them.

For the life of me. I didn't want to _be_ them.

Out of everywhere in the Arbitrator's house. I had one favorite.

The banquet hall's opened doors. Where the pond was.

It's here I pondered on what I was to do.

I knew my mission was to win the Arbitrators favor. But he gave me no ready opportunity. He was constantly moving.

He stopped for no one.

In an active lifestyle. What was I to do? Me, who had always been to sick to move.

I went on my knees. Facing the pond. Seeing my reflection on it's surface.

I Sang.

I had been told to Sing. Not to wait to be told to Sing. Not to find a reason to Sing. An opportunity to Sing.

Just…Sing.

So I did so.

The Arbitrator was quick to notice this change.

At breakfast. I Sang before starting my meal. Taking the time to make my bed. Or nest. Whatever you wanted to call it.

He actually seemed amused by this. He even stayed a while longer.

Imagine. He even sat on his bed.

Of course. The minute I started eating. He left immediately.

Usually. I wouldn't Sing at all if he wasn't around. But. I thought this made things lonely and silent.

So I Sang to myself to past the time.

Just like I did back in _Heavenfall_.

His home was too big. Too silent.

It eased the emptiness.

Although the Arbitrator never gave me signs. Not a hint of hope. I continued to Sing.

I would Sing every time I was to eat. And he would stay. Watching me.

When I stopped. He left.

Simply. Callously.

Of course. The only reason he cared was my voice. I expected no applause.

But for him to wash his hands off me. Seemingly. Was not a promising sign either.

Yet. I pursued.

Often. When I Sang out of loneliness. I would turn and realize he had been listening. So I began to Sing some more.

It was the only ting I had to hold on to. My Singing. It was the only thing that reassured me. Told me I wasn't a lost cause. Not yet.

One day I lounged in my little cage.

Looking up at the sky.

I decided there where three places that could be my own. My nest in the Arbitrator's room. The entrance overlooking the pond. And my cage.

I could wander the house. Sure. But it made me think of my life. How I could wander. Endlessly.

Metaphors creep up on you when you don't want them to.

I had taken a pillow from my nest. I clutched it now. It looked good. Here in my cage. It gave it a bit of life.

I'm not sure what I searched for in the sky above me. Perhaps an Angel. One to look after me in this alien planet. Surely God was not against it. God was supposed to be nice.

Anyway, I had just barely noticed the Arbitrator coming through the hallway.

He had been gone overnight.

I admit. I was a little hungry. No one had given me dinner.

It was things like this. It made me feel I still wasn't safe here. Not entirely.

He seemed frustrated. Like he hadn't slept.

Without giving it much thought.

I Sang.

Not really for him. And perhaps just a bit for me.

I Sang of a Hero. Coming home. Always.

Perhaps it was someone else. Singing through me. Promising. Something.

Strange. And maybe a tad too religious. But it's what I felt.

When I stopped. He knelt before me.

He stared at me. And I him.

I clutched at my pillow.

He noticed.

"_Naxa."_

He held up the fruit he had always given me.

I'm sure it was his way of being sorry. For making me skip my meal.

In any case. He began teaching me Yautja.

It was a tactic. More or less. He couldn't have someone ignorant around him. That. And it would be easier for him to tell me when and how long he'll be gone.

He taught me to understand it.

I'm sure he didn't expect me to speak it. I didn't try to.

The Arbitrator still worked as hard as ever. On the side he would teach me words. Like homework.

"_Nok_."

He showed me a lengthily rod.

"_Nok_."

He repeated. Wanting to know if I understood.

I pointed at the rod.

Perhaps he thought I was being a smart-aleck. He huffed. And took the rod away.

"_Nok_."

I looked around. I found a small statuette on his desk. I pointed at it.

_Nok_. 13 inches. A Yautja unit of measure.

He huffed again. A more positive huff.

I wished he would stop patronizing me. Last time he taught me the word _Tjau'ke_. He handed me a rock. I had to give him another rock. Twice. In order to tell him that. Yes. I now knew _Tjau'ke_ means _rock_.

I can take the hard stuff.

But he simply leaned back on his chair. Got back to work.

He would often take me to his study. Where he would use his Yautja technology. His desk would project a red monitor. And he would move his claws about it.

Sometimes it looked as if he was reading a list. Other times he would be reading profiles of some sort.

He would growl. Often.

I could see his fist shake. Lightly. A crushed note. In his clenched hand. The tension of his claws was unmistakable. With the same pent-up anger I had been noticing.

I Sang him a tune.

He was still frustrated. He was always frustrated.

But his shoulder's became less rigid. He brushed off the note. And his anger.

He continued working. He could bare it. Apparently.

As long as I Sang.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The day came. When the Arbitrator took me to his training room. _Kerhite_. As I was told. Repeatedly.

The walls were filled with knives and blades. They hang high and ended low. Waiting to be used. Stands and stalls had similar tools. A huge clearing was in the middle. Circular. Better for training.

Today's murder weapon. _Ki'its-pa_. Hunting spear.

A huge alien rod. A killers tip.

The Arbitrator stepped into the center of the clearing. He twirled his weapon. He breathed harshly.

"_Kv'var_."

He said.

Exercise. This was nothing more than exercise for him.

He lifted the spear up. Parted his legs.

"_Hiju_."

Combat stance. Fighting position. Whatever sounds better.

He was angry.

I saw it in his eyes. When he came back. He had ripped away the curtain that acted like a door to the hallway. He would've done much worse. I'm sure.

He saw me. In my cage. And beckoned me to follow him.

I knelt. Watching.

"_Je'ha_."

One.

He cut the wind. It cried.

"_Je'hu_."

Two.

His arms moved. Graceful. Stressed. His form was perfect. Yet. He was strained.

"_Ke'hu_."

Three.

He knew he was strained.

He swung his weapon up. Slashed an enemy from behind him. His dreadlocks danced in the air. Slapping it in the face.

But it wasn't good enough.

He growled. Lunging at an attacker. Someone who wasn't there. Only he was there.

And me. But that's not the point.

He fought this enemy. Growling. Hissing.

Breaking.

With a mighty shove. He knocked over a stand. I saw the glimmers given off by the fallen blades.

He roared.

He arched himself backwards. Mandibles flaring.

He forgot about teaching me. Forgot imperfection. He merely attacked. Erratic. But masterful.

He was a wild animal. And in that there was control. He willed for someone to attack. He knew no one would. No one could challenge. So he destroyed his _Kerhite_. Took the blades and cut the wind.

Do you wonder if I was scared?

Wonder if I feared. Prayed for myself. I was told once to only pray for things that truly mattered. As for fear. I feared not. I knew this was coming. I planned for this to come.

I needed him like this. I needed him out of _his_ cage.

He swung his blade.

I Sang.

There can only be one Caged Bird.

For a moment. He paused. A moment no one else could of seen.

In that moment. I saw my face in the shining silver. I saw his eyes.

He struck again.

_Je'ha_.

Once more.

_Je'hu_.

Another.

_Ke'hu_.

As I Sang in my melodies. He struck with his blade. As my hands shook with each strain of my voice. His shoulders calmed with every movement.

He was the master of his body.

He was a killer.

I saw it now.

Before. He was tense. Distracted.

Now. I saw his form as what it should have been always. A deadly beauty.

I Sang louder.

With every stretch of his muscles. Calm. Controlled. Ready to release at any moment. Release the monster within. He had the power to end life. He used it when he wanted to.

He was the Alpha.

His blade sliced with the power of a king. No longer did his claw clench to tightly. Shook a fraction to much.. He had it now.

He always had it. He merely forgot.

With every note I Sang. He followed with his arm. He followed with his body.

Was I leading? More of a measure. But I may be being modest here.

With every change in lyric. He changed his attack. With every up in tempo. He quickened his pace. Every slow. He halted. He breathed when I breathed. I stretched a word. He kept his form.

He was deadly. And like the blade in his hand. I was his new tool.

He turned. Ready. Capable. Powerful.

I stopped.

His blade froze just a fraction in front of my face.

It was a close call.

Before me. The Arbitrator breathed heavily. Though not harsh. Not like before. He stared down at me. I saw sweat on him.

I wondered if he even felt them.

The Arbitrator lowered his weapon.

He patted my head. Ruffling my hair. And past me by.

It was the first acknowledgement I'd been given.

Let me clarify what had happened.

I needed the Arbitrator to explode with rage.

I could have Sung while he trained from the beginning. But it would have done me no good.

I had Sung for him while he worked. It served as a numbing. Nothing more. He was distracted and irritated. Combine it was the wall hindering me. I needed him to release that anger. Succumb to the rage.

Only then could I be of use.

When one has a headache. He lays himself down. The Arbitrator moved to much to lay down.

Headaches can weaver with pills. The Arbitrator would take no pill.

You can move through the headache. Let it run it's course. Continue on despite it. The Arbitrator attempted to do so. But he only added more.

The final method. Detonate the headache. Snap. Then you're free.

The Arbitrator had more than a headache. But the method still stands.

I had refused to Sing until he was over the edge.

A gamble. But it worked.

I admit. I was partially relieved. A feeling altogether new to me.

All my life. I hadn't the chance to truly feel things. I had Father to reassure me. What he said was what I lived by. If from his mouth he said things were fine, so it was.

I'm not altogether sure that I was worried to begin with. But I do know that relief washed over me. It felt like tingles on my skin. And my stomach felt untwisted. I knew my plan had worked.

Feeling things was definitely worth the effort.

The day after. I was arranging my nest.

I figured that since the pillows that made up my nest were mine, I could use them however I liked.

The one I brought over the other day looked nice in my little cage. So I took two more. I had to economize, however. I had only so many pillows. The floor hurt. I needed them more in my nest. But it looked nice. My blue one. My red one. And my purple one. I was truly feathering my den.

Well. A small corner of it at least.

Anyway.

The Arbitrator arrived. He had a long cloth dangling from his clawed hand.

Child curiosity washed over me. I peered at it. Thinking. Maybe. That it was another dress. It was a lovely shade of maroon. I would've loved to have one.

But. Alas. It wasn't.

It was a curtain. A tapestry. With golden embroidery. And black swirling patterns.

He must of gotten it from the market place.

He had some trouble placing it though. A perfectionist. His whole den was filled his trophies. Acting like decoration. And furniture. The curtains were additives. But he already had so many.

He caught me staring.

I looked down. Perhaps it was impolite to stare.

The Arbitrator clicked his mandibles. I peeked upwards. He was staring at my cushions. I thought he was angry at my audacity. After a second or two. He handed me the cloth.

Surprised. I quickly took it. Fingering the thread count. Like silk. But rougher. Stronger.

A lovely shade of maroon…

I looked up. Got up on my feet. It was an effort. I had to jump. But I managed to swing the cloth across every corner of the top of my cage. Like a canopy. It was long enough.

I sat and hugged my knees. Admiring my handiwork.

The Arbitrator was watching. Arms crossed. As always.

At least he thought I was innovative.

But this was short lived.

He received a message shortly after.

I'll tell you something right now. The Arbitrator wasn't fond of social gatherings.

In the Yautja world. There were ritual ceremonies. For just about everything. _Chivas_. Seasons. But if you've seen over a thousand. You've seen them all.

But he was an Arbitrator. A public figure. He made sure the Code was obeyed. And if it wasn't. He made said offender pay hell. He knew Elders. Ancients. And Matriarchs.

Ah, yes, Matriarchs.

To strengthen Clan relations. To get an update. If a Matriarch said that Elders, Arbitrators, and Ancients should gather just to see each others faces. It was so. My Arbitrator loathed it. But he would smile and bare it anyway.

I said hello to politics again.

There was a small problem though.

Two days later.

In the banquet hall. I was looking over the lake again.

The Arbitrator was listening to a recording. An array of clicks. Series of them I yet to understand fully. A red monitor next to his face. He had a few jewels in his hand. Rings maybe. And was throwing it casually up in the air. Whatever the recording told him. It had his utmost attention.

Going to the gathering was simple enough. The issue was whether he would take me.

Apparently. He had been given an off-handed request to show me to the rest of the class. I had no idea of this. I figured it out after. So oblivious, I paid only partial attention to his peculiarities.

I suppose he was justified in his hesitation. I was his private property. Did he really want to flaunt me? It wasn't as if I had really proven my worth to him yet.

I looked at the pond. Perhaps it was nature intervening. Divine guidance.

I think it was because the water was so beautiful. Like crystal. I felt like I wanted to thank it.

So I Sang.

Singing to water is rather silly. I didn't think much of it at the time.

Rather. I drowned in my tune.

It was happier than the ones I had Sung. Recently.

When I stopped. The Arbitrator stopped playing with his trinkets.

He began to leave the room. But not before throwing the jewels at me to catch.

They were lovely. By the way.

He made a decision.

Arbitrators are constantly on the move. Tracking. Judging. Executing. To them. Invitations. Were open as per there schedule allowed. If they couldn't make they were forgiven. If on the job.

But my Arbitrator planned to make sure no such thing happened. Better to show me now and get it over with. Sedate the curiosity of his peers. Unless an Arbitrator with his set of talents was needed specifically. He was busy for the evening.

Incidentally. It takes a Yautja quite a while to get ready. More so than a human.

Things must be done days in advance.

The Arbitrator had a lot of armor.

His usual uniform. A deep raven black. So black that I felt if I reached out to touch it. I would be reaching into an endless black hole. It had marks and chips. Proof of his conquests. Every killed Bad Blood. Meticulously crafted to be flexible. Resilient. He only fixed it if it needed fixing. He liked to keep the dirt on it. Only cleaning if he wasn't busy. Or if filthy with blood.

He has a soft spot for his old armor. From before his Arbitrator days. His Clan Leader armor of a silver tone. Farther still. His old armor from his Blooded days. Tortured with scars and scratches. I doubted it even fit him now. Not that he was ever _skinny_. The fact that he had added even more muscle to his body since then was incredible though.

His ceremonial armor. A true work of art. A polished. Liquid black. Shining with death. Patterns carved into his plating. Only visible when light touched it at a certain angle. Etched with gold Yautja words on his wrist cuffs. Verses. Perhaps. It seemed like something he would have. A long cape the color of night. Long. Flowing. It was impressive. To say the least.

"_Awu'asa_."

He clicked at me. Showing his collection.

Right. Can't forget my vocabulary lessons.

The Arbitrator watched me closely. By now I could easily tell that he had something on his mind. Though it didn't seem to urgent.

He turned back to his _Awu'asa_. Perhaps imagining what else he could add to his garments.

I found it funny. Hiding my smile.

Yautja can be such Divas.

Arrangements for myself were to be made shortly.

I hadn't much thought for my appearance in any way. Things like that don't concern a dying person. And even now I didn't feel a self-consciousness about it. I had no one to impress. Nor would I ever.

My white dress. The one I had since my audience with the Matriarch. I admit that I cherished it some. I had nothing else and it was beautiful. More than I could ask for. Given circumstance. I tried my best to keep it the soft snow glow it came to me in. But. Alas. My efforts were solely in vain.

As I laid in my cage. I notice how faded it looked. I had tried with all my might to keep away from dirt. Carefully made sure nothing spilled when I ate. But all whites fade regardless. It saddened me some. My little dress. Still pretty. No longer young.

Yautja don't share the same sentiments.

My Arbitrator came from the hallway. Taking strong steps. With purpose.

He nodded at my direction. Stepping aside from my cage. He crossed his big and powerful arms and waited.

Imagine my surprise. When I saw what was coming through the hallway.

They were the smallest Yautja I had ever seen. Female. At that.

I thought of Matriarch A'yate. They would never live up to her. To even dream it would be treason. At this point. I realized. How their heads where bowed. Their hands clasped tightly.

Female Aseigan.

I nearly marveled. Nothing like the regal presence that was Matriarch A'yate. They were small. Most likely weak. Not fit to be a respectful Yautja Female.

The Arbitrator growled. Possibly scolding me about gawking at mere Aseigan. It wasn't dignified.

Though I noticed how he made a great effort to avoid all contact from them. Turning his head away. And standing far.

Female Aseigan are opt to make Males extremely uncomfortable. They're used to their powerful breed of Females.

Anyway. These Aseigan approached me. Bowing. They were three. Lithe and about my size. I saw that two of them were carrying a chest.

My Arbitrator extended his arm. Horizontally. A command I have come to know.

I etched farther to the corner of my cage.

Aseigan or not. I didn't know them. They made me nervous. All Aseigan did.

I stared at him. Hugging my knees.

He returned my gaze. Nodded.

The command was absolute.

No room for argument. He left. Likely to look after his own affairs.

I wanted to glare at him. I didn't. But I thought about it very hard.

Clear signs of improvement. This emotion thing.

Moving on.

The Aseigan were here for one purpose.

Currently. In the baths. They acted upon said purpose.

They dipped my head. In the pool.

My white dress. Neatly folded aside. Was stripped from me sure enough. It was an uncomfortable feeling. Being naked. In front of them. But it had to be done.

They went to work quickly. I was in the water. One of them continually poured the liquid on my arms. With her hand.

My head was dipped again.

Another ran her claws through my hair. Now wet and manageable.

Yautja hair is rubber like. Thick. A braiding ritual has to be done in order to get it the way it is. Human hair is another thing altogether. I'm sure it was strange to them. But they weren't brought to question.

Instead. She added a few braids. Into my thin locks.

The third Aseigan. She held onto me. Keeping me from drowning.

Once that was done. I was brought out.

From their chest. Pure black and engraved. They pulled out a cloth.

Sensible. Brown. Long.

They wrapped it around me. Feeling it. I noticed. It was made of the same material as the Arbitrator's loincloth.

I admit. They are excellent tailors.

With a knife. They cut the excess. Swiftly. And from their magic box. They pulled out thread. Black in color. And needle. The Aseigan moved quickly.

The thread pierced through the cloth. At my side. I felt her skilled claws move down. And down. And down. The needle barely grazed my skin.

Thus. My new dress was formed.

It covered my chest. Down to my ankles. A simple thing.

More from their chest. Leather. One of the Aseigan lifted my foot. They made quick sandals for me.

As far as jewelry goes. A simple. Black. Iron bended. Arm bracelet. It twisted into a symbol. One I had seen on the Arbitrator's armor. His mark. I suppose.

My left arm had the grace of this decoration. The Aseigan. Kneeling before me. Gently pushed it up my white skin.

I had notice. In detail. How they treated me. They dared not touch me roughly. Every action they did was gentle. No. Careful. They kept me at arms length. Out of the way. Never _looked_ at me.

They're heads bowed. Eye contact was out of the question. I had been watching them. They went about their work. Never dreaming of looking up. They did not chat. Silent.

At one time. I thought I and Aseigan the same. Now. I realized. It was not the case.

They were slaves. I was…

I had no idea. But I knew I was more.

The Aseigan stepped back. Clasping their hands. Just the same as I had first seen them.

I took the notion that they were done.

Their work complete. They retreated out of the baths. Taking their magic box with them.

Left alone. I stood. For a moment. I searched briefly for my little white dress. I found it. Close to where I had been bathing. As I walked to it. The beat of my new scandals echoed. Through the walls.

I tucked my little dress away. I would come back to get it.

The Arbitrator had ripped my lab gown to shreds. I did not want the same to happen to it.

Safely placed. I exited the baths.

When I came to my cage. He was already waiting.

Dressed in his death armor. Necklaces made of bones and skulls. Hung round his neck. A spiked collar. When I stepped closer to him. I noticed. Small skulls clipped in his locks.

He turned out rather nicely.

He did a once over. Glance at me. Head to toe.

Under his scrutinizing gaze. I bowed my head.

Though. Curious as I am. I peered upwards.

His head was crooked to one side. I watched him finger one of his boned necklaces. He placed it over my head. Around my neck.

I reach for it. A simple thing. A star like shape. Perhaps a bone not found in the human body. It hung from a simple black string. Strong. Durable.

I looked up at him.

Satisfied with my appearance. He swung himself about. His cape whooshing. Leaving the room.

I had to follow him.

A long series of walking ensued.

At this point in my life. I realized. Walking long distances was not something I enjoyed.

Ah, well. More on that later.

The trip. Agonizing on my part. But not altogether awful like the last times. Was uneventful.

The real action started inside the Matriarch's palace.

I knew it wasn't Matriarch Ayate's palace. It was a close friend's. Though I'm sure I never met her.

My senses were brutally attacked. For the second time in my stay in this alien planet.

So much was the sudden overwhelming. My Arbitrator had to steady me.

He placed his clawed hand at my shoulder. Hiding the fact I nearly fell over. Expertly.

I was thankful.

Also.

I was in a palace full of Yautja.

Overwhelmed was an understatement.

I felt their eyes upon me. As I and my Arbitrator walked further into the sea of animals.

I kept my eyes to the ground. But I knew. With the unwavering pace of my Arbitrator's gate. That he was unperturbed by the stares. He was neither nervous. Nor anxious.

It comforted. A little.

I reached out to his flowing cape. Only slightly. To avoid the notice of the onlookers. I caught a slither of the cloth.

I did so. Half to not fall behind. Half to feel as if no other Yautja would want to snatch me away.

To feel like I had a Protector. If I was to call him that. And that he would not let me be prey to those around us.

I could breathe a little bit easier.

It's tradition. And good manners. To greet the hostess of the gathering.

It's what we were doing.

My Arbitrator knelt before the throne of the house's Matriarch.

I followed suit. Getting on both knees.

My Arbitrator clicked his greetings.

I call him My Arbitrator. Now. To distinguish him from all the others.

We were surrounded.

Arbitrators in black. Never as imposing as my own. Watching me like a detestable Bad Blood.

Elders in gold. Offended by the impropriety of me being in the room. Against all doctrines of the Code.

Clan Leaders in their silver. Shocked that my Arbitrator actually went through with bringing me. The audacity.

The Matriarchs. Scrutinizing and unimpressed by my simple-ness, my frailty, my humanity and the overall fact that I was a female.

Curious. The lot of them.

Politics is such a childish thing.

The House Matriarch's throne. An elegant chair of black and gold. Stood on no tower placed. But firmly on the ground.

She spoke to my Arbitrator then.

In my lessons on Yautja language. There were objects and people. And in occasion. Actions.

I cursed that He had not taught me conversational words.

I knew she spoke of me. Enticing him to show my worth. Matriarchs had the luxury of getting right to the point. No one questioned what they wanted.

My Arbitrator was no exception.

He nodded to her. Once.

He stood. In all his dark glory. And bid me to do the same.

Surrounded by spectators. I thought. In an act of free will. To quench their thirst upfront.

I Sang.

Perhaps I was bold. Perhaps I would never be one for politics.

In any case. Every note. Chord. Octave. Came from my throat.

I lost myself. Briefly.

And for a moment. The room full of monsters disappeared.

Briefly. I felt a twinge of control.

The rewards for my efforts were reaped accordingly.

I had stopped my Singing. Opened my eyes.

I knew. Beyond doubt. That they looked in awe.

It's a splendid thing. To surpass expectations.

My Arbitrator certainly enjoyed it.

The Matriarch of the House called for the _Cn'tlip_. And. Truth be told. The room became more pleasant.

Alcohol was a universal indulgence. Clearly.

Yautja surrounded my Arbitrator.

He was the flavor of the night.

They clicked at him. Their topic of choice. Where he had managed to find a little Songbird such as me.

The House brought ale. He. Had brought the entertainment.

They fawned over him. Imagine. Grown killers fawning. But it was unmistakable.

Matriarchs. Daughters or nieces of Matriarchs. Brushed past him. Coyly. More enticed females ran their claws on top of his shoulders.

His little pet was a smash.

They talked not to me directly. Such a thing was absurd. But they did glance at me. Increasingly.

With their attention drawn to Him. I was able to see the beauty of the palace walls.

It was grander than my Arbitrators. With the obvious woman's touch. Trophies did not adorn. Statues. However. Were abundant. Torches lit with blazing fire. Crafted like works of art. The powerful image of a female Yautja standing tall above the rest.

"_Paya_."

My Arbitrator clicked at me.

I remembered the name. She seemed important.

As the night drew on. The crowd of guest became more relaxed.

I noticed. That my Arbitrator became more jovial. With each drink of his _Cn'tlip._

His chest puffed. Prideful. As they gathered in hoards to talk to him.

He often gestured towards me. Entertaining his onlookers with information. Trilling. Occasionally. His mandibles upward to what I guessed to be a smirk of some sort. As he talked to them.

Probably. Telling them about how well I can keep a tune.

I was called to Sing more.

He placed his claws a top my head. Signaling his request.

I saw. How his chest filled more. His eyes satisfied. With how awestruck his peers became.

I Sang an upbeat tune.

We circulated.

Moving about the large room.

He would make me to humor the new faces. I obeyed.

Though he teased them. Staying only for a Song. Moving quickly somewhere else. Having his chalice. Crystal. Filled with the wine of the House.

I realized. Quite surprised. That he was showing me off.

I sang louder. Better.

I didn't want to disappoint.

The hours past. I listened to the Yautja. Imagining. That they spoke tales of my Arbitator

For in their world. One does not brag of what he's done. Only keep silent. As others tell fantastical tales of their deeds. Regardless of extraordinary altercations. That can. Or cannot. Be true.

I did hear His voice. Rather endlessly. My Arbitrator's. To clarify.

He rumbled. Talking politics.

This was. Of course. The reason for the gathering in the first place.

Business is always before pleasure.

Between hauling me around. He was almost a mediator. As Clan Leaders bickered about this and that.

If borders were truly crossed. My Arbitrator raised his hand. Told so-and-so to retract. And the issue was solved then and there.

An Arbitrator's judgment was absolute.

Unless. Of course. A Matriarch got into it. She could overrule whatever she wanted.

Matriarch A'yata was there. She saw me through the crowd.

She nodded at me.

I beamed.

In an act of mercy. Perhaps on seeing how tired I was. I was allowed to sit.

I was currently laying on a square bed. Bright red.

The cushion was fine. And soft. Velveteen. I thought. But doubted.

It seemed a flimsy fabric. Not one Yaujta would use.

I laid myself on it. Half-sitting. The bed was tall. So my legs dangled if I did not.

Above me. Crystalline shards hung. A chandelier. Glittering.

Similar beds existed. Here and there. Some were smaller. Others had sheer curtains.

Like a club with booths.

Though I was tired. I still wanted to see it all.

By now. Most of the Yautja were satiated. Lounging. Murmuring. I was free to look.

The red carpet. A deep blood. Worn from the hosting of gatherings just like this. For years. And years. And years.

Glass. And crystal. Hanging. Intricately. From the high ceilings. There was one such beauty. Near me. It hung like a curtain. Shaped like a pyramid. Only two _noks_ above the floor.

Fire made them glow. Torches. Also little campfires. Some on top of tables.

One was near me. I watched the flames.

Like dancers.

I was shaken. From my dreams.

My Arbitrator sat next to me.

Maybe he was tired. Maybe it was the drunken daze in his eyes.

I suppressed a smile.

For a while. I continued to look at the flames. Sleep trying to lull me away.

I heard him trill.

At once. I felt his hand upon my head.

I froze slightly. Surprised.

He petted me. Small strokes at the top of my skull.

Purring.

A soft rumble. Emitting from him. Onto me.

I felt like I lost something.

But gained something grand.

Though I didn't know the meaning of it.

Not yet.

When I awoke the next morning. I was in my nest.

He had added one or two things.

More pillows from his bed. Skins too.

I didn't mind the extra comfort.

Generous. In fact.

I sat up. Staring around my little nook. Noticing. That though his bed was far from bare. He had indeed. Given me some of his own luxury.

There was no bowl of fruit.

My Arbitrator was also absent.

I figured. I would have to go to the banquet hall.

I did so. And found Him waiting for me.

His splendor of last night was forgotten. His usual attire donned.

He watched me enter the room. He was standing. Near a chair. I walked closer.

Once close enough. He handed me a plate.

Fruit. It had. Yes. But also meat.

Absently. I marveled at the offering.

I did not look up upon him. I merely took my plate.

I sat in my little spot. Near the water.

My throat was sore. Just a little. From all my Singing last night.

But I hummed a small tune.

Some days past.

Since I had so much in my bed now. I picked up a habit. Of taking something from there. And putting it in my cage. One. By one.

Maybe. That way. I thought He wouldn't notice.

I had just brought in another pillow. Gold this time.

I was admiring the sight.

I heard clicking. My Arbitrator was home.

I turned to see him.

Him. And to my surprise. A few others.

Aseigan.

I thought. With mild dread.

With them. They carried. Small loads.

Bundles. From what I could tell. Of cloth.

Curious. Though I was. I moved not from my cage.

My Arbitrator glanced at me. Leading the fray.

Of course. He did not stop. Ever forward to his task.

They headed for the banquet hall. Aseigans bowing their heads. Passing me by. I watched them go.

I hugged my knees.

Time passed.

Shortly. The Aseigan returned.

From the hall. Ever submissive. More so. If believably possible.

They went towards the exit. Leaving.

I wondered why they came.

I didn't wonder long. My Arbitrator appeared. After they left.

I watched him.

He beckoned me. With his talons. To follow.

I did.

We walked to the banquet hall.

I didn't know what to expect.

As we continued on. I felt my heart. Thumping.

We did not stop at the table. He gave no signs. And his huge frame. Kept me from seeing whatever he wished to show me.

He stopped. Suddenly.

I halted.

For a moment. He paused.

Then. His cape cutting the wind. He turned. Showing me.

A little nest on my favorite sitting spot.

Near the water.

In the height of bad manners. I did the unthinkable.

I stared at it.

This continued reaction. To everything He did. Was beginning to make me feel utterly stupid.

Yet. You mustn't blame me. Not really.

I wasn't used to his surprises.

He had been doing a lot. Lately.

It shocked me. To a minor degree.

I realized. That I thought. That everything he gave me was a divine gift. A graceful charity. But as I thought about it. He was supposed to take care of me. This was natural. Was it not?

Well. Yes and no.

I went towards it. Knelling slightly. Then completely.

The fabrics. Just like the ones from my nest. And my cage.

Soft. Expensive. But different.

Embroidered with words and pictures of stories. I traced the thread count. Images of Hunters. Fighting. Conquering.

Yautjan words. Telling tales. Verses.

Furs of monsters I'll never know.

I pieced things together.

As I looked towards the water.

My Arbitrator behind me.

As my Protector. Of shorts. He made sure I was okay. This meant feeding me. Clothing me. Nothing else required.

But he had been giving me these small prizes. Bit by bit.

I had enchanted him.

Like a true Siren Songstress. I wrapped him in my Songs. And in my own naïve way. I hadn't even noticed myself.

Perhaps I'm thinking to highly of myself. Is what I thought. What I felt.

But I lost my freedom. In a fractured way.

I had been in limbo. Master of my fate.

My choices. Would have had me killed. Or delivered.

They were My choices. Though. I ruled them. I picked them.

But now. I felt. Like I didn't have to fight anymore.

I was finally safe.

So safe. That I relaxed. In my sea of furs.

He would not cast me off. The Arbitrator. My Arbitrator.

Su'ete'cha'aka.

I suddenly remembered his name.

I never forgot it again.


	5. Glorified Pet

**A/N: **Very sorry for the extreme delay of this chapter. I planned for this to be even longer than what it is now, but I suppose I've stretched this long enough. By all means, enjoy. The next chapter will be out much sooner.

* * *

><p>Time passed for me then. Both quickly. And slowly. Like a dream. Let me tell you about when I woke up.<p>

Before I knew it. I was in a place more foreign than last.

And in innocence. I didn't even notice.

I would have been awestruck. Shocked.

But I was so involved in the thread of fate. Nothing was wrong. Or. In this case. Right.

Extremely so.

He didn't notice either. My dear Sue.

But let's start things off in order. Shall we?

Arbitrator Su'ete. Had more money than he could possibly know what to do with. Money. Or whatever passes for Yautja currency in this strange world.

And of course they had an economy. They're an advanced race. To think that they do not is idiotic.

So they had a means to buy. Markets filled with carpets and jewels and fruit. Low ranking vendors. Of course. Anyone who choose not to be a Hunter is low ranking. It's not their fault. Manuel workers were Aseigan.

Funny. How the low ranking ones hold up everyone else. But it's like that everywhere. I wasn't surprised.

Lessons in Yautja aside. Arbitrator Sue'te had much in his pocket.

He lived in luxury. No one was blind to it. And it showed his wealth in every hanging garment and jewel. It proved he spent a great deal. But that he had such a great deal more.

I imagine. That he had done such a good job in his den. That he couldn't possibly buy more. Couldn't possibly _do_ more. He was stumped. Richer with every kill.

And by now we know he killed mountains of people. Workaholic that he is. And mountains more just to pass the time.

So he let his money be. Piling many times over. Useless.

That is. Until I came along.

I wear nothing but gold.

Piles of gold adorn my body. Head to toe. Adding weight to me.

At first it was hard to walk. Being as heavy as it was. But by now I've managed to adjust.

The jewels I wear. Can be emerald. Ruby. Sapphire. But they are always fastened with gold.

Always gold.

Once. He bought me silver. A necklace of a single pinkish stone hanging from it. The minute he saw it round my neck he threw it away. Rather roughly. In fact. He was cross that entire day.

Gold seems to be the standard he's set.

Even now as I lounged in my cage. Gold covered every part of my skin.

I wear a gold bindi crown on my head. Very much like those worn in India. I remember from a book I read once.

The jewel that hangs from it is mostly gold. With little brown jewels etched into the teardrop emblem.

My neck is strangled with jewelry. First I wear a choker, gold with embroidery, brown jewels hanging from the bottom rim. Then, a long chain necklace draped four times around my neck. It was thin and light, and each chain was shaped like a flower petal. Each time it was wrapped around me, it was left to hang in varying lengths. One was closer to my neck. The other far below my chest.

Another necklace as long as this was put on me. Not a chain. But gold fastened to look like long beads. It was draped twice. The length was varied to whatever the other chain had not done. This one was heavier.

Then. Two long necklaces. Made of golden shaped coins. The coins hung from small golden chains. They bounced with every step I took. Making light music.

On each of my arms I wore thick golden bands. Far up on my arms. On my right I had one large one. On my left two slimmer ones.

Thin bracelets of yellow gold. One was long and tight around my skin. Like a clasp. Intricately designed like waves in the form of diamond shapes.

On either. Thin circular bracelets that bounced and moved if I did so much as move. Music makers like my coin necklace. By the dozens they were on me.

On my right wrist. Their was one more. A charm bracelet made of gold and brown stone. It had a stray jewel-chain that trailed along my hand and ended as a ring for my middle finger.

It was one of my favorites.

Briefly. As I looked down at it. I had a notion that there was once a time I didn't have a favorite.

As for my dress. I wore a rich brown cloth around my chest. Not the same I had worn before. This shone. Like silk but ever so much stronger. A style common to any female Yautja. My stomach exposed. Much like a bra. If you think about it. Though I admit I had nothing worth hiding.

My lower dress consisted of what you may perceive as a loincloth. But it was long like a dress. The fabric was of the same silk I wore above.

My mostly exposed legs. Due to the slights cut into my dress. Was given bracelets as well. The same thin. Bouncing kind. One different was my right leg again. It had a long band. Cut into swirls. Like embroidery. From just below my knee to my ankle.

My sandals. The only thing out of the ordinary. Were the strands sewn with shiny beads.

Thus I dressed. Normally. With altercations of course. But the overall concept of gold and jewels kept.

Even now as my Aseigan attend me. As they braided threads of-need I say it?-gold into my hair.

My hair is always in braids now. Not thick braids as the Yautja. But hundreds of slim braids. My Aseigan ran their claws expertly along my knots. Separating and mending. With my hair they laced golden strings in select places. Making my brown locks glow.

My female Aseigan.

Male Aseigan were kept as far away from me as remotely possible. The very thought of male Aseigan being around me was absurd in Yautja culture. Arbitrator Su'ete had to enlist these special Females for me alone to use.

The three that had been with me since the gathering.

It seemed such a long time ago. Perhaps it was. I can no longer tell.

They braided me. Oiled me. Drenched me in perfume. Fastened the cloths I would wear for the day around me. Their only task was to make me presentable.

I thought of naming them. Once. But I found I could not name those who worked solely for their task and never looked up.

As they finished with my hair. I reclined in my bed of pillows and furs.

Over time. My cage had become engulfed in things.

Sheer curtains with lightly plated embroidery surrounded all four corners. I could hide myself if I wanted to. Gems hung from the poles above me. Like little raindrops. Cloths of red wrapped around the vertical poles.

I had received more pillows and skins as well. Of varying fabrics and styles. Some had stories. Other were merely expensive to the eyes. My cage had become more like my second nest.

In my little cage. I often rested and thought.

Even while they worked around me. I had grown so used to them that I no longer minded. They did not stay for long anyway. Once they finished. They always went.

As my Aseigan finished the last of my braids they retracted their hands from me. In unison. Placing their clasped hands on their laps. They had been resting on their knees while they worked on me.

They bowed their heads. And since they made no immediate movement I peered at them curiously before looking into the Hallway.

From the distance I could see the outline of a shadowed figure.

Arbitrator Su'ete had returned.

With his black uniform and strong pace. He rarely ever returned tired anymore.

The Aseigan stood. Bowing to him. Opting to leave quickly after.

They always paused long enough to show respect to the House's owner when He was in the room.

He spared no glance at them as they left. He never did.

Instead. He walked towards me a few steps more.

I noticed he carried something in his hand. Always the curious girl that I was.

Humored. He showed me a new necklace. This time it was adorned with brownish crystals. At the center hung a pendant in a rough shape. Though it glowed beautifully.

Ah. Of course. I was wearing to much gold and not enough gems. Just the other day it had been the other way around.

I gave him a tired look.

Not that he cared about my facial expressions.

Huffing at the thought of me having opinions. He placed the jewelry around my neck.

When I lifted my head. He examined me. The way I had become oh-so-used-to. With his head crooked to one side and a scrutinizing gaze.

He approved of the added weight.

I promised, not aloud, that if I tipped over I would glare at him.

His shrill laughter was sort but amused.

There was reason for this glamour. Mainly because he felt like it.

But we would also be going out today.

The shut-in that had been my Arbitrator. He had picked up the habit of being invited to places and vigorously agreeing to go in order to shove me in the faces of his peers.

Typical behavior that no longer shocked me.

As we wouldn't be going for a while, he sat down beside me. He spread out his arms and reclined on my furs. His massive form gave off such a strong aura in my little cage I was sure no other Yautja had the same power as he.

My Arbitrator leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He wanted to relax.

I suppose he has a right to.

I Sang.

One Song would do. He didn't want me to strain myself. I was to perform after all.

He often came and sat next to me. Just so I could Sing to him.

I fancy that he wants a front row seat. Even if it is just us.

Or perhaps Yautja give no notion of personal space. Either or.

He would always drift into the world I sent him too.

Sometimes. I fancy he even lets his guard down. Only sometimes.

Part of me found it strange. That he could get so comfortable with something he owned. But then, that's a silly thought. If he owns me, what has he to fear?

Nothing. That part of me got so quiet I hardly noticed at all. Hardly minded at all.

As I Sang I stared at the gauntlet around his wrist. Drifting into my Song.

I knew the blades that came from it. Sharp and murderous. Powerful.

They were pens to him. Something to do his job.

I gently ran my fingers over it. Away from the blades. As if I, too, were relaxed.

But not too much. Never.

At least not then…

As an afterthought. I was careful not o touch his scales. It seemed to presumptuous.

I don't think he noticed.

As I finished my Song, I heard footsteps.

He did as well. Opening his eyes and staring unimpressed towards the hallway as I continued my tune.

He didn't tell me to stop. He never did.

So I let my melody run its course. Staring, too, at what came to us.

Crippled Yautja came to view. I was as unsurprised as he was.

Arbitrator Su'ete is nothing if not a Yautja of style.

The Slaves come. The Aseigan. Through the hallway with their bowed heads. Males this time. Not my Females.

He intends for them to carry me.

A sort while after my Arbitrator is standing next to my cage. His armor newly polished and his person groomed.

The Aseigan Males have been standing farthest away from me in the other side of the room. As if I were a plague.

They do so not to be rude. My Arbitrator has ordered them to.

They dare not touch his centerpiece.

With one gruff from him, they move from there statuesque form. Four go to respective corners of my cage.

With one strong heave they lift me.

Wherever my Arbitrator has me go. I travel by cage.

It was a logical step for him.

I was his prize. I couldn't be walking amongst the dirt and filth. Ridiculous.

I had to make a grand entrance. One worthy of his name. His title.

I couldn't possibly do that with sweat on my brow and mud on my dress.

Being tired from walking would hinder my Voice. Pure treason.

I needed to be extravagant.

Thus. Aseigan held me high of the ground. My curtains were drawn to keep the sun and dust out.

The Aseigan carry me. Arbitrator Su'ete walks in front of us. His pace dictates how quickly we travel.

I try to image the looks we get. From Yautja watching the parade we put on. My Arbitrator its leader. When they see the silhouette of the girl that I am. Do thy see an exotic bird?

They are strange thoughts. But they are mine.

As I sit in my traveling cage. I listen. To everything. I cannot see through my curtains but I know the sounds by now and where they come from.

I imagine the feral plants and wild trees. The Yautja Sun seeps in through the sheered fabrics of my cage and the jewels hanging sparkle because of it. For a moment I close my eyes. There is a dry wind. Still. It did not bother me. As though not even wind could touch me. Not when my Arbitrator was around. No.

When we arrive to our destination, my curtains open.

I am a performer.

Arbitrator Su'ete extends his talon hands and I take it. I am careful to walk out of my cage. For even though the Aseigan have lowered it close to the floor I am still considerably high from the earth below.

With a small leap I descend. My bracelets make noise. My feet land on the stone below. I notice we are at the mouth of a brightly lit cave.

I let go of the gracious talons offered me. I do not look up at Arbitrator Su'ete.

We are in foreign territory. For me to look up upon the Warriors is improper. Dishonorable. It would not reflect well on my Arbitrator.

I have made it a habit to not look at my surroundings. To lower my eyes but not bow my head. To be respectful but only submissive to my Arbitrator. It is subconscious rather than enforced.

It does not bother me. I have an important duty here. The only one that matters.

After walking a short distance my Arbitrator stops short in front of another.

He is grayer, a little more tall and just as imposing. In the darkness of the cave we are in this Yautja blends like a shadow ready to strike. The numerous bomb fires around us cast his figure to be even more threatening than I would assume he is.

Though it is not my place to assume anything.

They shook each other's shoulders in greeting. Su'ete and he. Things seem amiable between them and as they begin walking I follow.

It is so dark I must focus on Su'ete's cape in order not to get separated. I had long passed the childish tendency to hold on to it. Still. Even in this darkness it is not lost to me that our host has given me a once over. Discrete as it was.

His name is Mahnde. This is his party.

"_It pleases me greatly that you have decided to attend,_" he clicked to my Arbitrator.

My lessons in Yautja had expanded to conversation. Not entirely because of Arbitrator Su'ete's own violation. I had adapted enough to teach myself a little bit. He off-handedly furthered my education on the subject. Not encouraging or condemning.

If he noticed how good I was at understanding. He didn't care.

Anyway. Mahnde was talking.

"_Guan has returned from overseeing this seasons Chiva. Your presence will hopefully spare the lot of us from his zealous list of everything the Young Bloods did wrong._

Although I dared not look up. I felt his gaze on me.

"_Perhaps your pet will distract his usual tendencies?_"

"_You waste no time._"

"_Neither does he._"

I knew nothing of Guan. But I happen to know that Mahnde was the Gatsby of Yautja. At least. The ones in Su'ete's inner circle.

The extravagance of a friend reflects your own extravagance. Arbitrator Su'ete was imposing by himself. I was a bonus. Surely we were enough to silence this Guan.

Which is why we were being lead to our seats. Usually Su'ete would actively swim the sea of guests. But this was a friend's gathering. We were honorable guests.

Thusly we sat at luxuries thrones. Next to the host.

I was seated at the foot of my Arbitrator's throne. On a red velvet cushion big enough for two of me. One he had specifically called for. It was comfortable.

Much of what we do here involves Su'ete's business practice.

Playing politics is something Arbitrators are generally spared from as their role is more in the active punishment legislator. Yet they cannot escape from politics entirely.

Hidden amongst lavish gatherings and fireside festivities, Elders and Matriarchs alike continuously pursue subjects of law and regulation. There is truly never a moments rest for the Yautja. Always trying to be the bigger fish. Parties serve only as another excuse to show off.

This particular aspect of the game is never hard for my Arbitrator.

The gathering was beginning to go under way.

We had the high ground. I saw the fires and mingling bodies below.

It was here that Su'ete sent a gruff my way.

I Sing for the crowd.

To be perfectly honest. Su'ete is absolutely shameless when it comes to flaunting me. Wherever he goes. It is very rare for him to be invited anywhere and not take me. I've counted. It's only happened three times.

I imagine he enjoys hauling me around to have me entertain society.

And it's not just him. It is often that Su'ete is called solely for the purpose of hearing me Sing.

He does not mind this.

I strongly believe it only makes him incredibly pleased with himself.

The silence of those around us. Intent stares. Full rapt attention.

Like a spell. I could call upon everyone to stop and look.

A Yautja only desires immense popularity and unaltered recognition. For a few minutes of my song. Su'ete has that.

It swelled his pride.

I finish my Song.

Yautja don't clap. That's a human trait. But just the look on their faces reminds me of the concert I once Sang for. Long ago.

I don't think about those times. But the roars and euphoria from the Yautja below are an echo of the species I used to belong to.

Because Su'ete wasn't necessarily here under political terms. He could relax.

Mahnde chatted with him exclusively. Those who wanted to talk to either of them had to approach. Su'ete preferred this arrangement. He hated having to circulate.

From time to time. He would pet my head. As if to show his appreciation.

After all. I did make us a smash hit.

That being said. I suppose I didn't mind being his Glorified Pet.

He purred. Sometimes. In the whiles where no one talked to him. When his attention did not dwell elsewhere. I can say that it made me happy. Although I didn't really know it yet. I was happy. That I could bring him those moments of peace and satisfaction. That I made others envy him. That he was proud to keep me.

Keep and not merely own. That was the first time I thought of it that way.

Because this Guan persona did not approach. I suspected the plan to be a success. The usual _Cn'tlip _rounds were made.

The whole event went by smoothly.

Actually. It was all very well until late into the night.

* * *

><p>I had become accustomed to Yautja time. My body adapting to the longer days and nights.<p>

When we arrived back to our den. I had thought it had been another accomplishment in Yautja High Society.

_Cn'tlip_ had the effect of making Su'ete obtain a rather pleasant mood. So to speak.

Therefore. I sat in my cage. Watching gaily as his shrill laughter filled the echoing room. Continuously. It was very childish of me to do so. Watching him as if he were a spectacle. But it was also very childish of him to be half-drunk.

He did not mind. My smiling and staring.

When he approached my cage. Leaning his weight on the bars. He looked down at me. Humored by my joy.

"_A'ket'anu'Kalei_," He said as he petted me. Purring in his own special way.

I had never heard the words before.

But apparently it made him happy to say it. His eyes softened.

It was times like these. That he was very tender.

I felt I could do nothing to anger him.

That meant something to me.

The Aseigan had long since left. They knew. Very well. That their presence would offend his high spirits. They hadn't my amnesty.

Despite all this positive feedback. My initial belief of the day turned sour.

All of a sudden. Su'ete looked tense.

Absently. He gave me one last pat on the head. Retired somewhere else. Something told me it was not to his bed room.

I was left alone.

Strange. But I did not question. Perhaps he had a drink to many. This time around. He wasn't the type to overstep his rounds. But everyone slips. Occasionally.

Sleepiness crept over me. Su'ete may not have been tired but I was. I did not feel with enough strength to even Sing once more for him. Which is what he would often ask of me. Before retiring.

He would simply have to understand. If he found me asleep on my cage pillows.

Just I was about to succumb to it's embrace. I heard something.

The long hallway entrance. Someone was coming.

Two someones. I would soon see.

Yautja younger than Su'ete. Not Aseigan.

They stopped in front of me.

I looked down. They were strangers.

I knew they meant nothing good. Not unless Su'ete said otherwise.

Speaking of him. He emerged from one of the rooms.

He had smelled them coming.

Not an ounce of his previous contentment remained. Arbitrator Su'ete held his strong and superior look as always.

Probably. Having already sensed their arrival. His reason for leaving earlier was to freshen up.

He would be no drunk fool in front of them.

My Arbitrator stared them down. Imposing as ever.

"_Speak._" he ordered.

All at once the two Yautja bowed to him. Kneeling before his presence.

"_Honorable Arbitrator Su'ete'cha'aka,_" one clicked.

"_Who else would I be?_' My Arbitrator huffed, "_This den belongs to Su'ete. I am he._"

A fool worthy mistake on the Young Yautja's part.

Then again. Su'ete gets extremely irritated whenever someone interrupts his _Cn'tlip _induced moods.

The Young Yautja dared to glance at me. Perhaps a fool after all.

Any Yautja. With enough sense. Knows not to look at the prize of another.

This action. Only served to irritate Su'ete more.

He growled at the Young Blood.

"_Forgive me,_" the Young Blood bowed his head once more. "_We come with a message and a gift._"

Here. The Young Blood reached into a pocket of his armor. Hesitantly.

Su'ete eyed him. The Young Blood pulled out a shining object. Thin. Delicate.

A necklace.

Su'ete huffed in annoyance.

At this point the Young Blood was not leaving a lasting impression.

It had become common practice. Anyone who came to see Su'ete. Often had gifts for me.

This was done merely to appease Su'ete.

Soften him up before they asked him for something.

A token to his outstanding prize. As if to say. That they recognized his great honor.

Unless the gift is made of gold or expensive jewels he isn't impressed.

I remember one who brought a carved wooden pendant. Hung from a leather string.

He had sent the offender to near-hell.

I got to keep the necklace. Though.

In the here and now. This particular trinket was nothing to gawk at.

A simple beaded thread. Green jewel hanging from it.

I have ten like it. Much more glamorous in design.

Arbitrator Su'ete thought nothing of it. Clearly. Too simplistic for his tastes.

In one quick movement. He snatched it from the Young Blood. And let the necklace hang from his claws. In my direction. I took it humbly.

I liked it.

Then again. I like all the gifts. Which is another thing that annoys him.

I'm uncultured. Su'ete decides what is good enough for me to wear.

Anyway. Back in the here and now.

Arbitrator Su'ete was hardly pleased, "_You've done your research and came prepared. Speak clearly. What is it that you seek, Young Blood?_"

"_The Oomans that Honorable Mahnde was to release in the Coliseum in daybreak have escaped, Arbitrator Su'ete._"

Su'ete's mandibles flared.

Mahnde. Was also the Julius Caesar of Yautja kind. He owned a coliseum were elitist Young Bloods of honorable families could hunt or fight Humans a la _Jehdin-Jehdin_. In hand-to-hand combat.

These Humans must have been picked up from the reserve planet. Truly impressive if Mahnde had decided to use them for his games. They must have served for long seasons on the reserve.

To be hunted or fought _Jehdin-Jehdin _in the arena, with spectator Yautja around you, was considered lucky here. Honorable, even.

Humans.

I have not thought of my species in a long while.

The party had been a pre-coliseum bash. I had not known.

I wasn't shocked. But. I wasn't happy.

Su'ete could tell.

"_Mahnde requires me to lead the hunting party?_" He growled.

"_H'ko_," the Young Blood shook his head, "_Honorable Mahnde believes them to be lost in the catacombs. However, he requests you be on alert in the event he does require you._"

At this the Arbitrator turned abruptly. A roaring rumble emanating from his chest.

"_Tell Mahnde that his requests are C'jit to me," _Su'ete barked harshly,_ "Unless my presence is urgently desired, I will not be bothered again._"

"_Honorable Arbitrator - _"

"_Leave._"

The Young Blood was wise enough to do as he was told.

When the Yautja and his companion left us. Su'ete was in a fouler mood then before.

His left hand gripped at one of my cages bars. Clenched in annoyance.

At any moment. He could have broken it.

His right hand beckoned me to soothe him with a Song. Something joyous. No doubt. He wanted a distraction.

I was wise enough to do as I was told.

Though my mind was elsewhere. I Sang.

Humanity was so bothersome to me.

I dreaded the thought of my old Doctors. Of the Politicians. Everyone. Who had separated me from Father.

I loved Father. He was human.

By that logic. Humanity should matter to me.

Yet. It made no sense to me.

Humanity. Had not done a thing for Father. Or me.

That's why he sold me.

Had they been nicer. Kinder. Smarter. Things would have been different.

But no. I believe I loath Humanity to a point.

Still. When I think of those weary Humans. Set to fight like Gladiators. Facing lions they cannot win against. I feel uncomfortable. Sorry.

So I choose to forget.

In my song I drown Humanity out.

Much like Su'ete.

As he ran his talons. Over my head. I realized this.

He wants to forget too.

* * *

><p>The next day. At breakfast. Things seemed to be getting worse.<p>

Our days are routine. Early mornings.

With me Signing as Su'ete grooms himself.

Hangovers. Are a joke to Su'ete. If anything. They only reinforce his will to wake at his ungodly hour.

After Su'ete is done. My Aseigan clothe me. Ready me for the day.

Su'ete is ever present outside his room. Waiting to look me over. If he doesn't like what I'm wearing he sends me back. He's done this dozens of times. Acts like it's my fault. Forgetting that I'm not even allowed to pick out my dresses.

We were in the banquet hall.

I had long since grown accustomed to eating near Su'ete now.

While he ate proudly at the end of the long table. I was at his side. With a plate of my own.

My diet consists of mostly fruits, Naxa, and some cooked meat for protein. Compared to Su'ete's dish of raw animal. My meals were anorexic.

Yet. He insists that I eat every single portion. Forever suspicious of me. This paranoia has no basis. As I have never left food on the table.

I suspect it's a Yautja thing.

While we were eating. Su'ete's wrist com started beeping.

A message from Mahnde.

Su'ete hissed.

Apparently. The Humans had not shown up all night. Mahnde couldn't say for sure if they were lost anymore.

Knowing that he had already upset Su'ete with his little messenger. Mahnde had waited until morning to inform Su'ete that. Yes. His services were urgently needed.

"_Pauk'de Mahnde._" was the only thing Su'ete had to say about the matter.

Of course. He'd go.

But Su'ete was determined to eat first.

He proceeded to do so with extreme bitterness. Appetite gone to hell.

And in hell it will digest. For he would not go back on his decision.

"_Eat._"

He ordered me.

I stopped staring.

It worried me. That he would be in this foul mood all morning.

It's not the first time.

Nowadays. Every time his com has a message for him. For a target he must hunt. Su'ete becomes very agitated.

I began to strongly believe that he hated his job.

After our tense breakfast. Su'ete lead me to my cage.

He had his claws on my shoulder. As if I would disappear. If he doesn't have me in his grip.

His pace is hurried and un-harmonic. I can keep up only out of habit.

Once we were in the greeting area. I entered my cage. Serenely.

This only offended him.

He crossed his arms at me. Staring intently.

"_Stay._"

I nodded.

Su'ete left.

Leaving me firmly in place.

He knows I will. Stay, that is.

He doesn't need to say it.

The same way he knows he doesn't have to lead me anywhere. I won't run from him and I know where I'm going.

Yet. When he's in his moods. He gets like this.

Every time he has a job to do. He becomes aggravated.

He needs to see me in my cage. Needs to know I won't move. If I so much as think of moving while he is on the hunt. He will know. And he will be cross with me.

I'll be honest.

When he's out on business. He comes home with a gift or two. At a certain hour. Without fail.

If business isn't required. Su'ete is a homebody.

He trains. Works in his study. He knows where I am every minute of every day. If that isn't to his particular taste for that day. He has me glued to his side. Wherever he is in his den. I am right there beside him.

When Su'ete is out hunting. It's another matter altogether.

He doesn't know when he'll be back.

Unless he has a burned on image of me. Staying perfectly still. In one place. He will go insane.

It irks him. To go out an hunt.

As an Arbitrator. There's no way out of it.

So he throws his little tantrums. And gets on with it.

He never had this problem. Before me. Yet here I am now. And he hates to leave me. Hates not knowing. Especially hates that he will come out of the hunt angry and frustrated.

For the rest of the day. I sat idle in my cage.

Waiting.

Even when my Asiegan came. To oil me with my expensive perfumes. My mind wandered.

Su'ete's crankiness might have been contagious. I was testy.

I made their job infinitely more difficult. With my fidgeting. I was ashamed of myself. And at the same time. I really didn't care.

The Yautja sun was unforgiving. The heat made me tired. Everything seemed to distracted me.

These emotions were ever new to me. They were far less pleasant than the ones I discovered before. I knew this. I felt this.

This was not the first time Su'ete had gone to hunt. I was surprised at myself for acting so childishly. The Aseigan would give me my meals. I would sleep in my cage. It was not as if I was in a state of abandon.

But I was still upset.

Perhaps it was the prey that bothered me.

They were not the Bad Bloods Su'ete usually hunted.

The Humans that I feel no apathy for. Unlike Su'ete. The Yautja that Father gave me to. Father who trusted a Yautja. The one I now trust.

He was hunting my kind.

It didn't please me. Even if I didn't care for them.

It tormented me. To think of Humanity and Su'ete in the same sphere.

I hated that they mattered in some way.

They spoiled the growing kindness Su'ete had given me.

These thoughts swarmed in my head.

Ruining my peace.

It came to such a point. That I began to wish. That the Humans would have stayed put. To be killed by other Yautja. And not hunted by mine.

It was very cruel of me to think that.

So much. That it made me cry.

* * *

><p>It is late. When I finally saw an image at the end of the Hall.<p>

Su'ete.

He seemed disheveled. But unharmed.

I broke my vow of absolute stillness. Moved forward.

He didn't appreciate it.

"_Stay_."

His order was less than commanding. Yet I obeyed.

Su'ete himself broke his usual decorum.

As he made it to the front of my cage. He turned. And sat down upon it with a large flop.

Laying down on my furs. He reached out. And petted the strands of my hair. Like I was a pup in need of reassurance.

Perhaps I did need it.

All at once I felt. That I had worried about him.

He could smell it in my scent.

Worry. Not in the sense he could get hurt. Or hurt others.

I would never know if he caught the Humans. Or killed them. If they escaped. Though it was unlikely.

He made no mention of them. Ever.

To this day I don't really care.

What I had wanted. Was simply. For him to return.

In the same way. Su'ete need to know. I was still perched in my cage. All I wanted. Was to know he would be back.

If it had been up to Su'ete. He would not have gone.

It had not been up to him.

He was silent. As he pet me. Contemplative perhaps. Or haunted. By whatever it was. That may have happened. Which I would never know.

I could have Sung for him. I did not.

Even when he purred. He did not demand it.

He may have thought that in hunting those Humans. To ask me to Sing would be insensitive.

Su'ete. For all his Yautja mannerisms. Was considerate this way.

It was enough. That I was there. And it was enough. That he came back.

It had been a long night.

* * *

><p>Long or not. The morning always arrives.<p>

Mahnde. Our apple of discord. Never learned to take a hint.

Su'ete had slept in my cage.

When I awoke. He was faced down. Buried in my furs. As if the sun overhead repulsed him.

He wasn't drunk. But slept like he was.

I shook my head in sympathy.

I knew for a fact he hadn't slept well.

One. Because it was well into breakfast time. He never sleeps in.

Two. Because my cage was pathetically small. His legs were sticking out.

Of course. The Aseigan had not dared to wake him. Fearful of his wrath. Good help was so hard to find. Especially help with backbone. They knew very well how he would be even more angry when he discovered how late it was.

I contemplated shaking him awake.

I did not have to.

The morning. Along with it's heavy rays. Brought a loud wake up call.

The erratic beeping. Was enough to make his head lift. Glaring.

Arbitrator Su'ete cursed at his wrist com. He hadn't taken it off last night.

Like a lion. He shook his dreadlocked mane. His upper body shaking madly. I had to inch away in order to stay safe.

He saw me. Nodded. And lifted himself. Stretching any trace of cramped muscles.

"_Se-i?_" he growled into the device.

It was Mahnde. By the way.

He invited my Arbitrator to eat.

As a thank you for his services. No doubt.

Su'ete did not feel the gratitude.

For some reason or other. Su'ete had me come along with him.

I was quickly dressed. And brought up into my cage to be carried to Mahnde's den with him. It was bewildering.

Why my Arbitrator wanted to bring me. I had no idea.

I chose not to understand him. Merely to accept that Su'ete had to have his reasons.

When we arrived to Mahnde's den. He greeted us warmly.

"_Su'ete_!" Mahnde shook his arm, "_Mei'hswei, I am indebted to you._"

My Arbitrator said nothing in return.

Mahnde glanced at me. Noticing my presence.

"_You brought your pet._"

I was not offended. Don't worry.

For a moment, Arbitrator Su'ete looked at something in the distance, then huffed, "_You have brought yours._"

Mahnde titled his head in confusion.

Then. Suddenly. A huge. Black scaled Yautja emerged from the curtains.

"_Honorable Arbitrator Su'ete'cha'aka,_" the newcomer clicked.

"_Guan_," Su'ete clicked simply.

Ah. So this was Guan.

Mahnde began to chortle. A shrill hissing laugh.

He just got the pet joke.

Again. He shook my Arbitrators shoulder. "_Guan arrived earlier. He has been telling me tales of this season's Chiva._"

"_He has finally passed it?_"

More hissing laughter.

Normally. To joke about ones Chiva was insulting and battle worthy.

Guan was the type to let it slide in order to show self-restraint.

Inside. However. He bristled with a deep seated hate toward Arbitrator Su'ete.

One I will tell you about later.

In the meantime. This is the first encounter I saw of them.

Guan started with formality, "_I saw you at Mahnde's last gathering_."

"_I saw nothing of you_." Su'ete said with an air of aloofness.

His rudeness surprised me. But I had never questioned him before.

Su'ete was never a darling with his colleagues. He was a brute to everyone expect Females. And on occasion. Me.

However. With this Guan persona. Su'ete exerted an extra bit of frost.

"_I choose not to approach you,"_ Guan himself dismissed my Yautja's curt reply,_ "In purity, I had been pre-occupied recollecting the Chiva to Elders Ke'pal and Dtre."_

"_Se-i. Your stories take up much time."_

"_Hardly," _here, Guan's voice sprinkled with bitterness, _"Your pet had everyone in rapt attention. I had not properly started when your songbird was the only subject worth conversing about._"

Had he been a less controlled Yautja. No doubt Guan would have glared at me directly.

But no. His eyes were ever fixed on Su'ete.

And in return. Su'ete held his gaze. Daring him to even hint at me.

I believed they would kill each other.

Mahnde choose this point in time to interrupt the dual conversation, "_Su'ete has brought his songbird_! _Quite a magnificent creature, is it not, Guan?_"

"_The voice._"

"_Of course_."

Guan returned his attention to Su'ete, "_I did not think of you as one who would covet such a trinket, Honorable Su'ete. As exotic as it is…and you are…pragmatic._"

At this. Su'ete assumed a boastful puff of chest.

"_A worthy trophy must always be seized._"

I smiled at this.

My own chest filled with pride. Betraying my usual silent and still form.

He had never called me worthy before. It pleased me to hear it.

"_Worthy and fleeting," _now Guan was the one who sounded curt, _"An Oomans lifespan is…slight compared to our own. Still, we shall all enjoy your prize until it expires._"

A chill. Ran through me.

I hadn't thought of death since I was with Father.

It scared me now. It never had before. All at once I remembered. The needles. And Father crying. How I was Dying without any hope to even live. And I remembered my Mother.

And I was scared.

Su'ete could tell.

So much that his gaze fell from Guan. His attention was to me. Full of sudden concern he had never shown me before.

It made me remember that I was. In fact. Alive.

Still. Had this been a battle. He would have been killed.

Unfortunately. Not all battles. Are fought with fists.

"_Come!"_ Mahnde clasps his clawed hand over Su'ete's shoulder again,_ "Su'ete, dine with me. As thanks for your services. Perhaps you will further grace me and Guan with your pet's talents._"

"_He has heard her._" Su'ete growled.

Guan looked pleased. "_Se-i. In purity I must be on my way. Another time Mahnde. Su'ete._"

Guan left.

Suffice to say. My impression of him. Was less than savory.

Not only because his presence seemed to offend Su'ete. But because this Guan. Clearly enjoyed this offense.

Speaking of Su'ete. He clicked something that surprised me. And Mahnde.

"_S'yuit-de."_

He called Guan a bastard.

A rough translation. But needless to say. Lunch was spoiled.

* * *

><p>When we got home. Su'ete was restless.<p>

He paced about the entrance room. His clawed hands clenched. No doubt by the thought of the surprise encounter with Guan. Whenever Su'ete was exceptionally angry at something. He stalked to and fro. As if he was about to pounce for the kill.

Usually. He would go to the _Kerhite_ to shake it off.

Not today.

It was making me nervous. To see him so upset.

Never before had I seen anyone get under his skin the way Guan did.

In my cage. I huddled in one of the corners and watched him. Hoping that he would calm down for the sake of his own countenance.

I tried Singing.

My Voice was shakier than normal. Mostly because I too felt the venom of Guan's words.

But I did my best to soothe him.

It did not work.

Su'ete stopped abruptly. For a moment still. His hands unclenching and re-clenching. As if contemplating my Verses.

Then all at once the tense of his shoulders came back. He growled softly and turned around.

Without a word. He lifted his hand and bid me to stop. Marching straight along to his training room without even looking at me.

I knew I wasn't called to follow him. He wanted to be alone.

Guan.

It means Night in Yautja.

And like the night. There is darkness and danger inside of him.

It was always the same between them. Guan and Su'ete.

Su'ete cared little for anything Guan did. They were never comrades or rivals. And for whatever reason. Su'ete was unimpressed with Guan. The most he ever felt for him was utter annoyance.

Guan. On the other hand. Was always looking to outshine Su'ete at any turn. To over-achieve him. He lived to see the day where his accomplishments meant more than Su'ete's.

There isn't a conceivable reason for Guan's vendetta against Su'ete.

Su'ete belittles him. And his efforts at boasting. Simply to get Guan to stop talking to him.

For his part. Guan presses on regardless. Hoping to win the encounter every time. By striking a chord he knows would throw Su'ete off balance.

He succeeded this round.

And I was to blame.

I felt guilty. Knowing Su'ete was blind sighted by my fault. And that now he was destroying his _Kerhite _in pure frustration_._

It made me think. That what he said. About me being worthy. Was hardly accurate.

I didn't feel worthy.

My pretty Voice. Is only valuable when I Sing.

And only. When people want to hear me.

Su'ete. Is the one who dresses me. In jewels and gold. To make me appear more than what I am.

Human.

As much as I want. To act as poised as I can. In order to reflect his Honor. My Human mannerisms often overstep. I am a curios thing. I analyze those I shouldn't. I pay attention more than I let on. And my emotions often get the better of me. I'm a complication to Su'ete's life.

These thoughts depressed me.

I spent a long while. Sitting in my cage. Feeling useless.

It must have been nearly dinner time. When Su'ete came back.

I nearly leaped at attention when I saw him.

In the past couple of hours. I nearly convinced myself. That I was an ornament with no purpose. I was eager to prove that I was still useful to him. Suddenly afraid to death that he might not want me anymore.

In sort. I was panicking.

Su'ete could scent it in my musk. So he knelt before my cage. Laid a hand on my shoulder and had me sit down.

My Human insecurities were showing.

But Su'ete would have none of that. He raised his hand again. And motioned for the Aseigan to come into the room. They brought in a tray of meat. And a jug of strange liquid. I watched them intently. As always my curiosity won over all other emotions.

The Aseigan placed both items inside my cage. Su'ete had them leave immediately with a grunting command. They bowed as they exited.

I did not understand why Su'ete had brought these items here. I thought perhaps he wanted me to eat dinner in bed. But that didn't seem right. And Su'ete looked strange. Tired - or rather - drained.

In that instance. I noticed Su'ete's arm was wrapped in cloth. He had been bleeding. Profusely. My earlier panic returned. At the thought of him hurting himself in the _Kerhite._

Again. Su'ete held up his hand. And had be sit quietly.

I was beginning to feel agitated. I was worried for him. And confused about the meal set before me.

Su'ete did not keep me waiting long. He took the plate from my little nest. And here I noticed how there was only one single slab of meat. A mere morsel. A bite's worth. I grew even more confused.

Su'ete took the scrap between his fingers. And lifted it up towards my mouth.

"_Eat._" he clicked.

I assure you. I felt scandalized. For why in Heaven's name. Would a powerful Yautja. Want to mouth-feed a Human girl? As if I were a Roman Emperor!

My eyes grew wide as saucers. I shook my head on instinct. But Su'ete insisted. And with his other hand he pulled my jaw down. And my mouth opened. Inside went the feeble meal.

If I were a pretend Ptolemy. This was no grape!

The meat tasted terrible. It made me sick to chew on it. Su'ete knew this. And thusly he kept my jaw up.

"_H'ko. Eat it._"

I had to eat through the horrid flavor. He eyed me intently until I swallowed the dreaded piece.

After I ingested the thing. I coughed in disgust. Su'ete growled. But since I did not puke it out. He was satisfied.

He proceeded to lift the mug. I thought anything would suffice to wash down what I ate. So I gladly accepted.

Imagine my surprise. When I found the content of the cup worse than that of the plate.

The liquid was awful. Pure. Repugnance. I nearly choked on my first sip. It was vile. With a sense of slime. And a metal element I found intoxicating.

I wanted immediately to throw the cup away.

Su'ete had other ideas.

He placed a hand at the back of my head. And another he used to lift the cup to my lips. He seriously wanted. Me to drink the repulsive stuff.

I protested. I shook my head. Refused to taste another horrid sip.

Su'ete hissed. At my defiance.

I would have been shocked at my rebellion. But the drink was absolutely morbid. I would not continue.

Su'ete was prepared. It seemed. For he simply insisted. And pressed the cup into my lips. He was stronger than me. And though my will was fierce. He could spend days in the same position.

I whimpered. Pathetically.

His sympathy was touched. Though. Not enough. Su'ete merely petted where he had captured my skull. Again I shook my head. Hoping. Perhaps. He would notice how I did not want it.

He let out a Yautja-like sigh. "_H'ko, A'ket. You must drink._"

Aket, Aket. That sounded like what he called me before. What was it? _A'ket'anu'Kalei_? What did that even mean. How was it even reagent. To my refusal. To drink such a terrible thing.

It was frustrating.

The smell of the drink. Was making my head hurt.

"_A'ket…_" Instead of growling. Su'ete purred to me.

He knew well I did not want it. But still. He held the cup to my lips. Gently this time. And looked into my eyes. His gaze was firm. But also reassuring. I could not refuse him. His eyes as inviting as they were. So I gave in.

I began to drink the revolting concoction.

Su'ete was relieved.

"_Se-i, A'ket,"_ He purred,_ "N'got. A'ket'anu n'got._"

I still did not understand. But his tone was comforting. It helped with my endeavor. To say the least.

The utter repulsion I felt in every gulp was maddening. I gagged at every swallow. And the more I drank. The more my nausea increased. I couldn't stand it. Like bile. Like the foulest form of vomit and other things.

I clenched my fists. Just to stop myself from throwing the cup as far as I could. My knuckled turned red. Tears formed in my eyes. As I silently begged. Prayed for Su'ete to stop forcing me to drink it.

Do not think him cruel here. He tried to ease my burdensome task.

Su'ete purred softly. Clicking in the most reassuring way. I did not understand him. But I knew he was being supportive.

"_Se-i, se-i…" _he kept repeating, in cradling notes, "_N'got, Aket_…"

Also. He gently rubbed the back of my head. Trying to distract me from the taste in my mouth. And even though he continued to push the cup upward so I could drink. He tried to do as a delicately as he could.

I continued to drink because of this. I knew. That if Su'ete was trying to relax me. Than there had to be a reason. A purpose.

Finally. After an eternity. I finished drinking. I immediately pulled my mouth away from the cup. Coughing. And sobbing. For the aftertaste seemed to poison and remain in my tongue like a sickening plague.

Seeing this. Su'ete pulled me into his arms.

Part of me felt betrayed. Another part. More partial to my Yautja. Felt relieved. The turbulence from before was awful. I was glad it was done.

He caressed my back. And purred in order to soothe me. I could feel that he was sorry. And I was overwhelmed with the fact that he cared.

As I was crying. I imagined. That he was trying to be maternal. Like a mother. Who soothes her child. By telling her. That it's for her own good.

Indeed. That was Su'ete's intentions.

When I calmed down. He pulled me away. A little. And gently.

I looked into his eyes. Once more. There was a softness in them.

Feeling venerable, I did what all little girls were prone to do in times of distress and confusion. I leaped forward and hugged him. Drying my tears onto his chest as pathetically as I could. He let me. He held me.

It's a Yautja legend. That if a human is fed Yautja blood and flesh. That human will live for many great years. Longer than the regular Human lifespan.

I realized. That what I ate. What I drank. Came from his own body.

"_N'got, Very good, A'ket._" and I imagined, if he were human, he would have been smiling as he purred. Petting my head, "_You did very good, my A'ket'anu Kalei._"

As we all know. You only ever name something if you intend to keep it.

A'ket'anu Kalei.

That was the name Su'ete gave me.


End file.
